Inner Demons, Outer Evils
by Nyiestra
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.
1. Boiling Point

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.  
  
A Note: I know a lot of people will take issue with what I do with the main character, but it is entirely plausible. Wedge, Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie have all, at this point, spent fifteen years fighting to survive – and taking lives in the process. They've all lost friends and/or family, and all just push their pain (and guilt) aside. Sooner or later, that would be bound to catch up with at least one of them.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Chapter 1: Boiling Point  
  
* * * * *  
  
"All right, people, what do you think?" Wedge Antilles asked over Rogue Squadron's frequency. The squadron had just completed the first leg of a test flight with a new model of x-wing, the T-65D-x.  
  
"Shimmies when you break hard in any direction," Wes Janson, Rogue Five, replied. "Probably a minor mechanical problem. Minor to fix, that is. I wouldn't want to have to account for it in a dogfight, though."  
  
"Noted. What else?"  
  
"The extra speed is nice," Jesina Dreis, seven, cut in. "But other than that, there aren't a lot of pluses."  
  
"That extra speed could save a few lives," Gavin Darklighter replied.  
  
"She's dismissing the speed, twelve," Tycho Celchu interrupted, "because the speed advantage is outweighed by the cost. The extra money these will cost the New Republic could save more lives if used in other ways." There was a murmur of agreement over the comm.  
  
"All right," Wedge said again, "Let's run some of those maneuvers again. Look specifically for faults. That's what they want from us anyway."  
  
"As ordered," Tycho replied. His acknowledgment was followed by a series of clicks.  
  
Wedge started to pull up and then felt the fighter shudder as it was hit by lasers. "What the—" he exclaimed, breaking hard to port. "Damage, Gate?" he demanded of his astromech.  
  
His starboard engine was gone, and the S-foils on the same side had suffered major damage as well. He glanced at the HUD for an indicator of who his attacker was, but in a moment Tycho's voice told him all he needed to know.  
  
"Three, four, stay with Lead," the Colonel's crisp order came over the comm unit. Briefly Wedge wondered why – Tycho was his wingman, and normally the Alderaanian would stay with him. Again, he needn't have wondered. As Tycho banked away from his CO's ailing fighter, the Rogue XO's voice came across again. "Nine, come about to heading two-one-four and power down or I will fire."  
  
Wedge felt cold and the knot that had formed in his stomach when he'd been hit tightened. Nine was Corran Horn, a Corellian who'd been with the squadron for over a decade. Why in the galaxy had Corran fired on him?  
  
"You won't do it, two."  
  
"Don't push me, Horn." The Alderaani pilot's voice was as cold and hard as Wedge had ever heard it.  
  
"Go ahead, Tycho. Make me a target. I love a challenge."  
  
That was, likely, the stupidest thing he'd ever heard Corran say. Oh, Corran was good, that much was certain. But Tycho was better, hands down. That was why he'd broken off and ordered the rest of one flight to stay with Wedge – Tycho was the only one who was almost guaranteed to be able to outfly Corran.  
  
Wedge keyed his comm. He'd leave Corran to Tycho – better not to interfere. But he had to do something about the rest of the squadron. "Seven, take the squadron. Three, four, break off and form up on seven." A series of clicks was his only response – that and the motion of Ensa'dura and Duryll Seco complying with his last order.  
  
"Giving up, Lead?" Corran's mocking voice came to him over the comm. Wedge did not reply. His attention was focused instead on maintaining control of his damaged fighter.  
  
Then the alarm warning of a torpedo lock blared. Wedge banked as hard as the protesting craft would allow and, by what he could define only as a miracle, broke the lock. A moment later, he saw an explosion as Tycho's torpedo slammed into Corran's fighter.  
  
Wedge stared out of the cockpit at where his good friend's fighter had been only moments before. Had this actually just happened? How had it happened?  
  
"You all right, Lead?" Jesina asked.  
  
A quick glance at the HUD told him she was where she was supposed to be, leading the rest of the squadron back to their hangar. "I'll be okay. Take them in, Jes. And stay in the HQ."  
  
"Copy that. Seven out."  
  
Wedge switched his comm unit over to the private frequency he shared with Tycho. "You okay there?"  
  
There was a pregnant pause as Tycho weighed his words. Then he replied, "I'm all right." He laughed, but Wedge knew it was beyond forced. "I'm not the one driving a ship that a scrap yard wouldn't take. You gonna make it in?"  
  
"I've flown worse pieces of junk than this. I'll make it. See you on the ground." He knew that this was far from the end of their conversation. It was just a delay that they both needed to be able to process all that had just happened.  
  
But before he reached Coruscant, Wedge made one last communication – requesting that someone on Coruscant arrange to have Corran's wife meet him at his office. Mirax Terrik-Horn was an old friend of Wedge's, and he wanted to give her this news himself, painful as it would be. He needed to talk to her himself.  
  
Too short a time later Wedge and Tycho were sitting in the former's office, waiting for Mirax to arrive. They didn't wait long.  
  
When Mirax entered, she was direct and to the point. Wasting no time on customary greetings, she asked simply, "What's wrong, Wedge?"  
  
He motioned to a chair. "Have a seat, Mirax. I need to ask you a few questions about Corran."  
  
She didn't argue, just did as he said, knowing that cooperating with him meant she'd get her answers sooner. "Okay, shoot."  
  
Wedge winced slightly at her choice of words but asked, "Has Corran been acting strangely recently?"  
  
She frowned. "He's been a bit agitated, but he keeps blaming it on the force – which I don't understand, so I generally don't ask."  
  
Wedge nodded thoughtfully. "I know this is a stupid question that I already know the answer to, but has Corran been drinking excessively lately? Or maybe using spice?"  
  
Mirax made no effort to hide her shock – or her indignation. "You're right, that is a stupid question. And you DO already know the answer. Why are you asking this, Wedge?"  
  
"Because Corran just tried to kill me. And came very close to succeeding."  
  
Mirax stared at him, unblinking. "What kind of sick joke is this?"  
  
"No joke," Tycho told her softly. He recounted what had happened on the test run.  
  
She sat in silence as he finished his account, eyes closed tightly, willing herself to keep her emotions under control. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked straight at Tycho. "You did what you had to do. I won't hold it against you. Now, if you both will excuse me, I'm going to contact Yavin." Yavin was home to the Academy at which Luke Skywalker trained Jedi, among them Mirax and Corran's two children.  
  
Wedge caught her arm as she rose. "Mirax—" he began, but she pulled away and cut him off.  
  
"No, Wedge. Not now. Just—" She shook her head. "Not now." Then she was gone.  
  
Tycho stood as well. "I think I'm going to head home too."  
  
Wedge nodded, concerned for his good friends. "You know how to reach me if you need anything. Call whenever. I'll be there." Tycho returned the nod and, hugging Wedge briefly, left the office.  
  
Outside in the corridor, Tycho sagged against the wall. He was grateful to Booster Terrik for teaching his daughter to control her emotions – and to Mirax for demanding that kind of control of herself. The fact that she'd kept her emotions in check had made it easier for him to do the same. For now anyway.  
  
He took a few deep breaths and straightened. Next stop: his apartment (his wife being gone on assignment, as was Wedge's) and the Whyren's Reserve he always kept fully stocked. 


	2. On the Edge

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.  
  
A Note: I know a lot of people will take issue with what I do with the main character, but it is entirely plausible. Wedge, Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie have all, at this point, spent fifteen years fighting to survive – and taking lives in the process. They've all lost friends and/or family, and all just push their pain (and guilt) aside. Sooner or later, that would be bound to catch up with at least one of them.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Chapter 2: On the Edge  
  
* * * * *  
  
Having tried several times – to no avail – to contact Tycho, Wedge decided just to head over to the home his friend shared with Winter – whenever the Intelligence agent was actually on-planet, that is.  
  
By the time he arrived, Tycho's supply of Whyren's had been significantly diminished. The Alderaani pilot did not appear, at first glance, to be overly intoxicated, though no one would mistake him for being sober either.  
  
After letting Wedge in Tycho dropped onto the sofa, offering his visitor a seat with an exaggerated wave of his hand. "What brings you here?"  
  
Wedge sighed and remained standing. He was in no mood to play games. But then, neither was Tycho, he was sure. "I know you know the answer to that."  
  
Tycho looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "No, can't say that I do." The slight slur to his words became more evident.  
  
"Tycho—"  
  
The Alderaanian jumped to his feet to look Wedge in the eye. "You're right. I do know why you're here. And I don't want to talk about it, so you may as well just go."  
  
"Whether you want to talk about it or not, I think you need to."  
  
"I'm fine, Wedge."  
  
"You're drunk."  
  
"Show me a pilot who doesn't drink."  
  
"To this extent? You."  
  
"I also just killed a good friend."  
  
"You did your job."  
  
"Yeah, well, right now my job doesn't exactly make me proud."  
  
Wedge sighed. This was one battle he was not going to win – not now anyway. He didn't have the energy, the willpower, or the alcohol consumption to fight this out. "Fine, you want me to go, I'll go. But don't come in tomorrow. Report in so I know where you are in case I need you, but don't come in. Stay home, get some rest – Force knows you're going to need it after tonight – and just try to relax."  
  
"You can't—"  
  
"I can, and if I have to, I'll make it an order. You need a break after today. Besides, you'll be too hung over tomorrow to be in any shape to fly."  
  
"Wedge, I—"  
  
Wedge rested a hand on Tycho's shoulder. "Relax, Tych. Take a day off. When was the last time you had a day that you did nothing for the squadron?" When his friend didn't answer, he continued. "Exactly my point. You work yourself to death, just like I do." He saw Tycho flinch at his words but dismissed it. "Sometimes, I think we could take a lesson from Wes. He works just as hard as you and I but at least he enjoys himself. Of course, if you tell him I said that, I'll be obliged to space you both."  
  
Tycho managed a half-smile. "I'll remember that."  
  
"Good. Get some rest, and I'll see you in a couple of days." He turned to leave but stopped and turned back. "And remember, you can come to me for anything if you need it. No matter what."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The day after his ordered rest Tycho was back to work. Much to Wedge's dismay – and against the Corellian's very vocal wishes – he threw himself into the preparations for Rogue Squadron's reassignment to Lusankya once Wedge resumed command of the task force it headed. When that happened Tycho would return to being the Rogue's CO.  
  
Late that evening Wedge sat alone in his office after Tycho had finally left for the night, trying to decide if the zeal with which his friend had worked was a good sign or a bad sign. He hadn't come to either conclusion when he was interrupted by a visitor.  
  
Visitors to be more precise – three of them, in the form of Jesina Dreis, Wes Janson, and Hobbie Klivian. "Moment of your time, Wedge?"  
  
Wedge frowned at Janson's words. The perennial joker's face was abnormally serious and there was an uncertain tone to his words that Wedge was sure he'd never heard before in the fifteen years he'd known the pilot. "Sure, sit down."  
  
As they did, Jesina handed him a mug of caf. "Here. I get the feeling you're going to need it." She gestured to her own. "I know I could use something even stronger."  
  
Wedge's worry deepened. This was getting worse by the second. "What's going on?"  
  
It was, predictably, Wes who answered him. "We, ah, we think that Tycho ought to be removed from duty for now."  
  
Wedge's jaw dropped. Of all the things he might have been expecting, that certainly would not have been one of them. "Why?"  
  
Jesina spoke next. "You were working with him today, so you didn't really get the chance to just stand back and watch him. We did. He's distracted, having trouble focusing. Not a good thing for a pilot." She hesitated, and Wedge noticed it.  
  
"What else?"  
  
"Well, I went over to his apartment last night, just to see how he was doing. He was drunk when I got there, and downed another bottle of Whyren's like it was water. Then he passed out." She paused, and when she spoke again there was an urgent edge to her voice. "Wedge, in all the time I've known him, he's never gotten that drunk. Not even after Alderaan." That was a meaningful statement – Jesina had known Tycho all his life.  
  
"He was drinking the night before last, too," Wedge said, frowning. "Damn near threw me out."  
  
Hobbie shook his head. "This isn't good, Wedge."  
  
Their CO sighed. "No, it isn't." His gaze traveled over each of them in turn. "You really think I should relieve him from duty? I want your professional opinions, not your thoughts as his friends."  
  
"These are our professional opinions, Wedge," Wes said seriously. "We don't have any real missions coming up – we're pretty much in limbo right now. We need him when we have assignments, but in this holding pattern we're in for the next few weeks, until Lusankya is back, we really don't."  
  
That much was true. Unlike most squadrons, those that weren't commanded by a general, Rogue Squadron didn't have a two-person command. Rather, the Rogue command included, in addition to Wedge and Tycho, Jesina, who was a colonel, and Wes and Hobbie, both majors. It was an arrangement unique to the elites Wedge commanded, but it helped to make the squadron more effective – and less dependent on Wedge to make every decision.  
  
"You two?" Wedge asked, turning his eyes to Jesina and Hobbie.  
  
They both nodded. "He won't like it, but he needs a break. Corran's death is taking a toll on everyone, but especially on him. You've got to expect that, but he still has to deal with it."  
  
Wedge ran a hand through his hair. They were right, and he knew it. In fact, they weren't saying anything he himself hadn't been thinking. "All right. Listen, I want to thank you for coming to me with this. And don't worry – you haven't pointed out anything I didn't notice myself." He paused and, if possible, his face grew even more serious. "Not a word of this to anyone outside the squadron. That could do a lot of damage to his career." He didn't have to say that, but did anyway. "I'll talk to the rest of the squadron tomorrow."  
  
Hobbie and Jesina nodded and excused themselves. Wes, however, hung back. "You heading over there tonight?" When Wedge nodded, he said, "Do me a favor? Tell him I know what it's like, if he needs to talk."  
  
"Oh, he needs to talk. I'm just not sure he wants to."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Wedge took a deep breath before depressing the buzzer outside Tycho's door. He had to press it twice more before it was answered.  
  
It was clear to him the moment he saw Tycho that the pilot was well on his way to repeating the previous two nights. Wedge, not in the mood to battle it out with the other man, stepped inside before Tycho could send him away. "I need to talk to you."  
  
Even through his slightly drunken haze, the Alderaanian caught the seriousness in Wedge's voice and seemed to sober slightly. "Sure, sit down." He sat on the sofa and Wedge sank into a chair directly across from him. "What is it?"  
  
Wedge took another deep breath. This was going to be one of the most difficult things he'd ever had to do. "A few squadron members came to me this evening expressing concerns about your ability to do your job right now."  
  
Tycho stared at him, incredulous. "Wedge, you can't be serious! You know I–"  
  
"I know you need some time off."  
  
Tycho ran a hand through his hair. "I am having a tough time, I admit that. But I'm only going to get over that if I keep working."  
  
"I don't think so, Tycho. They think it might be best if you stepped down for a while, took a personal leave." He paused. "And I agree with them."  
  
"Wedge–"  
  
But Wedge cut him off again. "No, Tycho. Take some time off. Don't make me make it an order."  
  
Tycho stared at him for a long moment before looking away, out the window, into the dark night. "That's not necessary. But I think you'd better go."  
  
Wedge stood. He didn't really think that leaving was a very good idea. But staying and arguing struck him as an even worse choice. "All right."  
  
When he'd reached the door he stopped and turned back. "Wes says he knows how it feels, and if you want to talk, he's around. I hope you know we all are." Tycho didn't answer, so Wedge let himself out.  
  
As he left, he missed seeing Tycho lightly finger his blaster. But even if he'd stayed, he wouldn't have known the thoughts that passed behind the ice- blue eyes. 


	3. Falling

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.  
  
A Note: I know a lot of people will take issue with what I do with the main character, but it is entirely plausible. Wedge, Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie have all, at this point, spent fifteen years fighting to survive – and taking lives in the process. They've all lost friends and/or family, and all just push their pain (and guilt) aside. Sooner or later, that would be bound to catch up with at least one of them.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Chapter 3: Falling  
  
* * * * *  
  
Four nights later Wedge and Jesina, the Rogues' temporary XO, were reviewing orders for Lusankya's task force, named Nebula Task Force. They'd been in Wedge's office but she'd grown tired of the close confines and the two were now sitting cross-legged on the floor of the hangar just outside the door.  
  
Jesina frowned. "I get the distinct impression that there's something they aren't telling us."  
  
Wedge heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I got that feeling as soon as they said they were committing the Lusankya and two Star Destroyers – among others – to a diplomatic envoy."  
  
"Do we even know who we're escorting?"  
  
"No, I–" Wedge began but broke off as he heard footsteps echoing through the hangar. Looking up, he saw a face he'd not expected.  
  
Tycho's face was pale, and his civilian clothes did nothing to conceal the fact that he'd lost a significant amount of weight. Add to that the fact that he was visibly trembling, and both could see that something was very wrong.  
  
Jesina jumped to her feet and helped the shaking man to the nearest seat, a mechanic's bench. "Can I get you anything, Tycho?" she asked gently.  
  
He shook his head and fixed his eyes on Wedge. "You told me when you came over that night that I could come to you, anytime, no matter what."  
  
Wedge leaned forward, concern filling his brown eyes. "Of course. It's always been that way."  
  
"Well, I," he began, looking pleadingly at Wedge, begging for understanding. "I need help, and I don't know where else to go." He drew a deep, ragged breath. "I almost – I almost killed myself tonight."  
  
Wedge's breath caught in his throat. This was not what he'd expected to hear. He glanced at Jesina and opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.  
  
"I'll comm Leia, tell her what's going on, and ask her to get a message to Winter," she said quickly. She headed to her own office – Tycho's office, normally – and put a call through to the Solos. Leia answered right away and knew immediately, probably from the strained expression on Jesina's face, that there was some kind of trouble.  
  
Jesina wasted no time with pleasantries. "Leia, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to get a message through to Winter Celchu."  
  
The Chief of State hesitated. "Jesina, you know..."  
  
"I know the protocols. Yes, that's true. But I don't have time to go through the proper channels." Unbidden, her voice took on an imploring tone. "Leia, you know I wouldn't break Intelligence policy like this unless I had no choice. I know how dangerous it can be."  
  
Leia studied Jesina's face. The pilot had been an intelligence agent for over a decade. She did know the rules, which told Leia just what kind of emergency this had to be. "All right. I'll do what I can, but you've got to give me a reason."  
  
Jesina decided to ignore the request for a moment, figuring her next question would give Leia her answer anyway. "What's the best mental health facility on Coruscant? For military personnel, I mean?"  
  
"Corusca Naval Hospital," Leia answered without having to think. Then, suddenly, the strange flow of this conversation fell into place. "Tycho?" she asked softly.  
  
Jesina nodded. "Wedge and I were going over orders in the squadron's hangar when Tycho showed up."  
  
"Why wasn't he with you already?" Leia interrupted.  
  
Jesina frowned. "Oh, that's right. You weren't told."  
  
"Apparently not," Leia replied. She didn't like the sound of this.  
  
"Wedge relieved Tycho of active duty. He wasn't coping well with having had to shoot Corran down."  
  
"I had no idea."  
  
"Wedge didn't want you to be told. Having anyone outside the squadron know he had to be removed from command was a danger to his reputation – and to his career – so Wedge kept it out of his records. But now that's a moot point."  
  
"Oh?" Leia arched an eyebrow. "Why is that?"  
  
Jesina told her what he'd said and watched as the color drained from the other woman's face. "I'll contact General Cracken and have him get a message to Winter as soon as possible. What do you want to tell her?"  
  
"That she's needed here as soon as possible. And that I'll meet her upon arrival."  
  
Leia nodded. "And I'll call Corusca and make arrangements. Even if Tycho isn't bad enough off to warrant being admitted, I want him evaluated, whether he agrees or not."  
  
"Leia, given the way he came here tonight, I doubt that that will be a problem. He was really scared. Frankly, so am I, and so is Wedge."  
  
"I am too," Leia admitted. "I'll make those calls. Oh, and have Wedge stop by here before he goes home tonight."  
  
"I will." Jesina suspected she had an idea of how Leia's conversation with the Corellian would go. "Dreis out." The image faded and she returned to the hangar.  
  
Wedge was kneeling in front of Tycho, speaking to him softly. Jesina's trained eye noticed instantly that both men's blasters were on the floor several meters away. She removed hers and set it down beside the others before moving to be near her friends.  
  
Dropping down to sit beside Wedge she said, "Leia's going to have Cracken get Winter back here, and I'll meet here when she gets here. I thought that would be best, in case you weren't able to," she finished, meeting Tycho's eyes.  
  
Wedge forced a smile. "Glad you thought of that, because he's not going to be able to. Jes..."  
  
"It's being taken care of as we speak." She rested a hand on Tycho's knee. "Leia's making arrangements at Corusca Naval Hospital. She said she wanted you to go in, at least for evaluation, whether you wanted to or not. I told her I didn't think you'd really fight us on it."  
  
Tycho just shook his head, unable to speak, as Wedge stood and Jesina followed suit. "They'll be expecting us," she said softly, taking his hand and drawing him to his feet. 


	4. I Killed a Friend

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.  
  
A Note: I know a lot of people will take issue with what I do with the main character, but it is entirely plausible. Wedge, Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie have all, at this point, spent fifteen years fighting to survive – and taking lives in the process. They've all lost friends and/or family, and all just push their pain (and guilt) aside. Sooner or later, that would be bound to catch up with at least one of them.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Chapter 4: "I Killed a Friend"  
  
* * * * *  
  
As Jesina had predicted, a clerk at the hospital was waiting for them, as was a nurse. Wedge noticed there were no droids in sight. It was odd, but made sense. Droids just couldn't comprehend human emotion. As such, they had no place in a mental facility.  
  
"Tycho Celchu?" the nurse asked. When he nodded, the young man consulted the datapad in his hand. "Right this way, all of you."  
  
They followed him to a large room that looked unlike any hospital room Wedge had ever been in. There was a regular bed, unlike normal hospital- issue cots. A chair and chest of drawers and carpeting on the floor completed the room's furnishings. It looked like it was designed for someone to stay there for a while. The nurse motioned them into the room. "Please, sit down."  
  
Once they were sitting – Tycho on the bed, with Wedge and Jesina on either side of him – the nurse took the chair. "Now, who might you be?" After they identified themselves he asked, "Are you family?"  
  
"Close friends," Jesina replied.  
  
He frowned. "I'll have to ask you both to wait outside."  
  
Wedge glanced at Tycho and, seeing the panicky look on his face, said simply, "No."  
  
"It's policy, sir. Only family–"  
  
"Let's get something straight here and now," Jesina interrupted. "In the absence of his wife, who is currently off-planet, close friends are the closest thing he has to family in the galaxy. Furthermore, all either of these men has to do is snap their fingers and you'll be out of a job."  
  
"But as long as he does have family, policy is policy."  
  
Jesina glowered. "In a place like this, I'd think a person's comfort was slightly more important than policy. What's a nerf-herder like you doing working in a hospital anyway?"  
  
"I ask myself that every single day," a female voice said from the doorway. Glancing up, Wedge saw a petite woman with short brown hair and a scowl on her face. "Lieutenant Jaxom, I suggest you remove yourself from my presence immediately. I'll decide tomorrow what to do about you."  
  
The now red-faced nurse stood, saluted, and left all in one fluid motion after handing the datapad off to the newcomer. Wedge didn't think he'd ever seen anyone move that fast, outside of a starfighter, anyway.  
  
The woman stepped into the room, allowing the door to close behind her. "I apologize for him. A politician's son who doesn't belong in the company of anyone other than politicians." She glanced at Wedge and Tycho, eyes finally lighting on the blond man. "Mr. Celchu?" He nodded and she held out her hand. "I'm Doctor Ishana Lur. I'm the therapist tentatively assigned to you. If at any point you feel uncomfortable with me, just say something and we can and will find you another doctor."  
  
He shook her hand and nodded. "Thank you."  
  
She smiled and set the datapad down. "These are your friends, if I heard correctly?" When he nodded again she turned to them and asked for their names. After the introductions she returned her attention to Tycho and asked, "Would you prefer them to stay?" Again, he nodded.  
  
"All right. I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you feel uncomfortable answering, you can let them do it. But I do need answers, all right?"  
  
When no one spoke, she continued. "This says that you're suicidal. Have you ever actually tried to take your own life?"  
  
"Not unless you count twelve years of flying with Rogue Squadron."  
  
She smiled. "All right. But you've seriously considered suicide?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How close did you come?"  
  
He looked past her. She guessed he would have turned away but for the fact that he then would have found himself face to face with either Wedge or Jesina. "I put the blaster to my head."  
  
She nodded and made a note on the data pad. "Where is that weapon now?"  
  
"In the hangar."  
  
"Do you have any other weapons on you right now?" He shook his head and she glanced between Wedge and Jesina. "Do either of you?"  
  
"They're at the hangar," Wedge replied.  
  
"All right. Good. Just so you know, no weapons of any kind are allowed in this building." Jesina and Wedge both nodded and Ishana again returned her attention to Tycho.  
  
"What stopped you?"  
  
His expression told her that he was taken aback by the blunt question. "I...I don't know."  
  
"All right." She looked thoughtful. "Is this recent? Did something happen within the last month or two to cause this?"  
  
"I killed a friend."  
  
This time it was her turn to be surprised by his bluntness, but she recovered quickly. "Tell me about it?"  
  
He began to explain what had happened with Corran, but finally gave up. It was still far too difficult for him to talk about, so he allowed Jesina to finish the story.  
  
Once Jesina fell silent, Ishana made a few more notations and then looked up, looking over Tycho from head to toe. "Let's try a few easier questions, shall we? When was the last time you ate? A real meal, I mean?" Tycho just shrugged. "Do you drink alcohol?" This time he nodded. "And when was the last time you got a full night's sleep?"  
  
"The night before Corran died." 


	5. Easier Said Than Done

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 5: "Easier Said Than Done"

---------------

Jesina and Wedge were sitting side-by-side in the front of the squadron's briefing room the next morning, waiting in silence as the pilots filed in one or two at a time. Despite the fact that they'd been asked to arrive between 0800 and 0830, by 0730, everyone was there. Everyone, that was, except Tycho, whose absence did not go unnoticed by the rest of the squadron. "Where's Tycho, Wedge?" Wes asked softly. 

"That's what this is about, Wes. I'm sorry there was no time to tell you and Hobbie privately. Go sit down." He was worried that Wes would be offended. But the other man seemed to hear the strain in Wedge's voice and nodded and sat down quietly.

Wedge took a few deep breaths, pacing back and forth across a couple of meters of floor space. He'd had a lot of difficult tasks in his time as Rogue Leader; this was going to be, quite possibly, the worst. "I have an unfortunate announcement to make," he said once all eyes were on him. He didn't have to wait very long – everyone had sensed that there was a problem and, with the exception of a few brief remarks to each other trying to figure out just what, exactly, WAS wrong, everyone had been paying close attention to Wedge and Jesina.

"This morning, at approximately 0600 hours, Tycho Celchu was removed from active duty. Late last night, he was admitted to the psychiatric ward in Corusca Naval Hospital." There was a formal tone to his words and he felt badly for that, but it was the only way he could keep his emotions completely in check. "We...there is...he'll remain there until his doctor, currently a woman named Ishana Lur, believes that he is capable of returning to duty – and there is no guarantee that that will happen. This is partly due to Corran Horn's death last week, but there are additional factors involved."

"Who admitted him?" Wes was the first to break the silence that followed the announcement, and Wedge knew exactly what he was asking. He wanted to know if Tycho was in the hospital of his own volition, or because something had happened.

"Tycho came to us last night," Jesina responded. She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and looked away for a moment, drawing a deep, calming breath. "He had considered suicide and requested help. Leia Organa-Solo is the one who made the arrangements, but Tycho signed himself into the hospital. However, he did sign his rights to release over to the doctor. He can't sign himself out of the hospital against medical advice."

Inyri was resting her elbow on the table, chin in the palm of her hand. "Wedge, you didn't want anything said about Tycho's...problems...the drinking, and the removal from command. But now that Leia knows, what's going to happen? And are you going to get in trouble for covering it up?"

"I don't much care if I get in trouble for covering it up," Wedge said honestly. "I did what I thought was best. Tycho's going through a rough time, as a direct result of doing his job. I wasn't about to ruin his career over something I thought he could get through. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't. I don't know, and I'm not going to."

Jesina answered the rest of Inyri's question. "Leia's going to do everything in her power to protect the Rogues – and Tycho especially – from the fallout from this. It is going to hit the sludgenews. Of that, Leia is certain." She shook her head at the irony. Tycho absolutely hated the sludgenews. "As for his career, that's entirely up in the air. Provided that Dr. Lur comes to the conclusion that he is capable of returning to duty, there should be no adverse affects on his career. If she thinks that returning to the squadron will cause him more harm than good, his career is over, starting now."

"Can we see him?" It was Hobbie who asked, but the rest of the squadron nodded, indicating that he was speaking for all of them.

Wedge shook his head. "No. That's one thing that Dr. Lur was firm about. She thinks that as long as there are people around who he's close to, he'll be unwilling to let his guard down enough for her to get to the root of his problems. Which, as I mentioned earlier, is not just the ordeal with Corran. According to her, it's normal procedure for someone admitted under the circumstances Tycho was." 

--------------- 

Wedge was surprised to see Leia appear in the Rogue HQ. "What are you doing down here?"

"I wanted to let you know a couple of things. First of all, no one's going to try to prevent Tycho from returning to the squadron, provided he gets clearance from Dr. Lur. The other is that General Cracken has arranged for Winter's return, and, because she and Iella were working together, he's reassigned her – to lead a team to try to find out what happened with Corran."

"I'm a little afraid to find out what happened with Corran," Wedge admitted, shaking his head. "It reminds me of Tal'dira. I know that that was brainwashing, and I'm hoping that's what the situation was with Corran. But..." He sighed and shook his head again. "I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't. If that was really Corran, and he just went over the edge, and now with Tycho in the hospital..." He trailed off.

Leia pulled a chair over to Wedge's desk and sat down. "Wedge, there was nothing you could have done to prevent Corran's death. Whatever happened there – an Imperial trick, some warlord's game, or Corran's own problems – it wasn't your fault. He'd tell you that, just the same as you told him after Tal'dira. And as for Tycho, that's been a long time coming."

"He's been my best friend for years, Leia. How did I not see this coming?"

"You tried to get through to him after Corran was killed, didn't you?"

"I got nowhere."

"But you tried. And that was all you could have done. And it did pay off, because he came to you that night. There's every possibility that if you and Jesina hadn't tried to talk to him, he might not be alive right now. Don't beat yourself up over this."

"Easier said than done."

"I know. But Mirax and the kids need you, and so does Tycho. And the squadron needs some sense of stability. If you can't get it together, you're not going to be any use to anyone." The words were a little harsher than she'd intended, but she hated to see Wedge like this, and she'd known him long enough to know that he didn't respond to coddling.

He nodded. "I almost wish we had an assignment right now – it'd make it easier to get back to normal, even without Tycho."

"You will soon enough. A few weeks and Lusankya will be back. And then you'll be leaving with that envoy. I don't know exactly what it entails, but it sounds like it'll be relatively simple – which is good since you may still be short staffed – but it'll be enough to get you back into the routine."

Wedge laughed bitterly, echoing his earlier comment. "Easier said than done."


	6. Off Balance

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 6: Off Balance

---------------

"Have a seat, Tycho," Dr. Lur said when he entered her office. She wore a broad smile that didn't fade in the slightest, even in the face of his dark countenance.

Inwardly, Ishana sighed. She'd been pleased when he entered the hospital, because it had been of his own accord, before he'd actually done anything stupid. Moreover, the fact that he'd gone to his friends had suggested to her that he was ready to talk. But he'd done his damnedest to prove her wrong. He'd been more tightlipped about what was going on in his head than a smuggler about his cargo.

She pushed her datapad aside and studied him. "Do you want to be helped? Or do you want to feel this way the rest of your life?"

His eyes widened and she gave a silent cheer. Finally, she'd gotten him to show some form of emotion, even if it WAS just incredulity. "I wouldn't be here if I liked feeling like this."

The doctor shook her head. "I don't buy it. Because if you wanted help you'd talk to me. You'd try to help me figure out what's wrong with you so we can fix it. And you aren't doing that. If anything, you're doing your best to prevent me from ever understanding you. And I can't understand why."

He was clearly at a loss. "I...I'm sorry."

She shook her head again. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your wife, your best friends. Apologize to yourself. But not to me."

She leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. "Tycho, you have no reason to not be talking to me. You don't have anything to hide. Thanks to the sludgenews people, the entire galaxy knows you've been hospitalized. What we don't know – and what we really need to know – is what went wrong with you to make death a preferable alternative to your life?"

He smirked, eyes narrow. "That one's easy. I killed a good friend."

Ishana sighed and looked away for a minute, counting silently in an attempt to gather her thoughts before she spoke out of turn. "Is that really what this is all about? Can you honestly tell me that you were perfectly fine until the day Corran Horn died?"

He didn't answer, just avoided meeting her eyes. That was enough of an answer for her. "I didn't think so."

She smiled at him. "I know you've heard the statement that Jesina gave to the media about your hospitalization." It hadn't even taken two days for the sludgenews to get the story, just as Leia and Jesina had predicted, and Jesina had acted as the squadron's spokesperson. "Do you remember it?"

He shook his head. "Not very well." She nodded. She wasn't surprised. He'd had a lot of difficulty sleeping the first few days and the staff had resorted to sedating him. Even when he'd been awake, he hadn't really been with it.

"She said that the problems you've been having are not uncommon. And she's right. There's a reason military hospitals employ mental health professionals. A lot of people have a much harder time than you have, dealing with far less than you've been forced to."

Ishana picked up her datapad and scanned his file again, though she knew she didn't need to. Shed read it again and again over the last few days, struggling to find a way to get through to him.

"Let's see. You served the Empire loyally until they blew up your home world and with it your family, who you'd been talking to at the time. You jumped ship and went over to the Rebellion just in time to join Rogue Squadron and to suffer through the defeats at Derra IV and Hoth. You only narrowly survived Endor. Then you volunteered to fly a capture Imperial shuttle to Coruscant, which resulted in several months of Imperial captivity under Ysanne Isard. After your stay at Lusankya and Akrit'tar, you returned to the New Republic only to be placed under house arrest by people who thought you were a spy. That culminated in a trial that quite possibly could have resulted in your execution. Things have actually been fairly smooth for you over the last few years – well, as smooth as they can ever be for someone in your line of work – with the major exception of ending up working for the woman who nearly destroyed your life."

She paused and watched for a reaction from him, but he continued to sit still, his face impassive. So she went on. "And then there's what happened a week and a half ago, in which you were forced to kill a friend and fellow pilot after he fired on your commanding offer – a man who, incidentally, is the same one who accused you of being a traitor eleven years ago."

Ishana stopped speaking and looked up at him again. This time she was rewarded with an amused half-smile playing on his lips. It was certainly not an indication that he was interested in being cooperative, but it was something.

"Tycho, you were a prime candidate for a breakdown. Throughout your life you've dealt with one tragedy after another. Couple that with the normal stress of your incredibly draining job, and the fact that you're constantly surrounded by death, and with the pace you always set for yourself, and it's to your credit that you went this long without having a serious problem."

She rested her chin on the palm of her hand and met his eyes. This time he didn't look away, and she felt that she'd finally made a connection with him. She wasn't sure what had done it, and she didn't care at the moment. All that mattered was that she finally had an opening with him. She finally had his attention, and she wasn't about to lose it.

"Tycho, do you know why I wouldn't allow your friends to visit you?"

He shook his head. "Why?"

It was all she could do to keep from cheering. It was the first time he'd actually engaged her. "There are a couple of reasons. One was because I wanted to knock you off balance. Your friends – Leia Organa-Solo, Wedge, Jesina, and the rest of the squadron – are the forces of stability in your life. The other is that I wanted to put you in a position where I could convince you that it was okay for you to breakdown. With your friends around, you feel the need to maintain your composure. Your friends are a major source of stability for you, but they're also part of your problem. You need to let down your guard, and you won't do that with them around. You're afraid of disappointing them, of letting them down."


	7. Diplomatic Dinner

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 7: Diplomatic Dinner

---------------

Wedge glanced up as Leia entered his office. "Bad news," the Chief of State said with a grin.

"Then why are you smiling?" Despite the strain of the last couple of weeks or so, the squadron and the other people involved – even Mirax Horn – were starting to achieve a sense of normalcy again, and the banter between Wedge and Leia was a sign of that.

"Because I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer through the dinner alongside me tomorrow night."

"What dinner?"

"Adumar is officially joining the New Republic tomorrow night. There's a state dinner for them at which your presence is requested."

"Only took the better part of a year," Wedge remarked. Months before, Wedge, Tycho, Wes and Hobbie had been sent to Adumar as diplomats. They'd endured the duel-obsessed culture, an entire nation's attempts to kill them, and led one side in a world war. Wedge frowned at the memories. "Why do I have to be there?"

"Because you were the chief diplomat. But don't worry. You won't be alone. All of Rogue Squadron will be suffering along with you, especially Wes, Hobbie...and even Tycho."

"Tycho is going to be there?"

Leia nodded, smiling a real smile for the first time in what felt like – and might have actually been – months. They requested it and Dr. Lur thinks that it'll be good for him to get out for a while. She was having some trouble getting through to him, but apparently he's made progress over the last few days."

"Well, that's good I guess. But is she sure he can handle it? Last time I talked to her – granted, it was a few days ago – she said he seemed paranoid, and that he wasn't reacting very well to some new staff."

"She's sure. Like I said, she said he's made progress. And in case he has trouble, she's been talking to Winter about what to do."

She turned to leave but turned back. "Oh, and it's been requested that you four not come alone. I know that Iella hasn't returned, so I thought you might bring Mirax. It would give her something to think about other than Corran's death."

Wedge nodded. "I'll talk to her. Anything else?"

"Ah, yes." She gave him a sly smile. "I thought I'd warn you that General Cracken is headed your way."

He groaned. The Intelligence Director had been more than cooperative over Tycho's situation, which just meant that Wedge would really owe him at some point. "Is it too late for me to hide?"

"Afraid so."

"Feel like intercepting him for me and delaying him so I can escape?"

She feigned shock. "Wedge Antilles! I never would have figured you to be the type to run away from a fight."

"I have no problem facing down blasters or ships much larger than my x-wing. But with that man, I don't mind admitting I'm out of my league."

"Actually, I think it has to do with your orders. _Lusankya_ has returned." She smiled. "Good luck." As she turned again to leave, General Cracken came in. She greeted him quickly, and then disappeared just as quickly.

Wedge stared at the Intelligence Director. "I've just been informed that I'm spending tomorrow evening in the company of politicians and Adumari officials. You can't possibly make my day any worse, so you may as well leave."

"And if I said you might be leaving that function prematurely?"

Wedge raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Your orders have changed. We have a line on a high-priority prisoner. When we find out for certain where he is, the task force – including Rogue Squadron and Loran's Wraiths – is going in to retrieve him. Have your people show up in dress uniforms, but have them bring flight suits and the rest of their gear in case you have to leave straight from the dinner."

"Will do." A little over a week earlier Wedge had wished for an assignment to help the squadron get back into the routine that had been thrown off by Corran's death and Tycho's hospitalization. But something about this gave him a bad feeling.

"Good luck, General."

---------------

The Rogues gathered in a meeting room in the palace before the dinner – a meeting characterized by the traditional good-natured grumbling over the dress uniforms.

"Why did they want us to come with dates?" Wes asked, adjusting his collar for what had to be the fiftieth time.

Wedge shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe it's just an image thing."

"Or maybe they just think we women can keep the hard-partying pilots under control," Mirax joked, forcing a smile to her lips. "Speaking of, where's your keeper?"

"Here," Jesina said, raising her hand. "I'm the lucky girl. And let me just say, Mirax, anyone who thinks we'll keep the boys in line obviously has never met us."

"It's about time you two ended up together somehow."

Everyone looked up to see the man whose words had interrupted the laughter. It was Tycho. He had his arm around Winter, though Wedge could tell it was a gesture of support on her part rather than affection on his. He was pale – paler even than the night he'd gone into the hospital – and he was thinner, almost sickly. But what struck Wedge the most was the marked lack of confidence in his stature. He looked more like a lost child than a man who'd faced – and beaten – death a hundred times over.

Jesina shook her head. "Together nothing. I'm just holding his leash." Wedge smiled his gratitude to her for ending the awkward silence. The only members of the squadron who had seen Tycho since he'd been admitted to the hospital had been Jesina and Wedge.

Winter spoke up. "Leia's going to send an aide in to tell the eight of us when to go in. The rest of you can go in now."

A few more pained glances were exchanged – these were pilots, after all, and not diplomats – and the groups parted. As Winter and Tycho stepped back, out of the way of the door, Wedge noticed Tycho cling to her arm. She touched his shoulder gently and whispered a few words into his ear.

Wedge took a deep breath. Yesterday he'd met with Dr. Lur. She'd told him that she hoped that putting Tycho back into a normal role in his life, even for a night, would help his mentality. She'd also gone over how to help Tycho in case he had any kind of panic attack. Because of the way this dinner was set up, Winter was going to have to leave him for the receiving line, so Wedge needed to know how to help him if necessary. He walked over to his friends, followed by Mirax. But before he could speak, an aide came in. "Follow me, please."

At the door Mirax, Winter, Jesina, and Hobbie's date Cheriss ke Hanadi – the woman who'd been their guide on Adumar – were escorted into the ballroom. The moment Winter left her husband's side, he visibly tensed up. But Wedge lay a hand on his arm and said softly, "You're doing fine. Take a few deep breaths. And remember, all the Adumari women loved you." That brought a smile to Tycho's face, though it was quickly replaced by the terrified expression he'd been wearing moments ago.

He remained stiff until they were seated at one of the two head tables. Leia and her husband Han sat with Admiral Ackbar, Borsk Fey'lya, and the Adumari delegation at the other.


	8. Hell of a Fight

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 8: Hell of a Fight

---------------

Wedge had just moved his glass out of the way for the staff to set down his plate when he heard the beep of his comlink. As he got to his feet, a glance around the table told him that Hobbie, Wes, and Jesina were doing the same. A moment later, Cheriss did as well. She was a fighter pilot and her squadron was assigned to Lusankya.

As Wedge and his companions made their way to the door, attempting as little disruption as possible, he saw others doing the same. Some were the Rogues. Others he recognized as members of Pash Cracken's A-wing squadron, the Aces – including Pash himself. Others he didn't know, but assumed they were assigned in some way to the task force he was commanding.

He felt a hand on his shoulder just as he stepped through the door. Turning, he saw Winter and Tycho. "I'm going to take him back to the hospital. With all of you leaving, he doesn't have much support here, and we don't feel like dealing with the reporters who'll be waiting when we leave." She didn't say it, but he could see there was another reason. Tycho was exhausted and extremely tense.

"I understand." He hurriedly hugged Tycho and said, "Feel better."

"I wish I was going with you."

Wedge shook his head. "You've earned a break."

"So have you."

"I've had mine the last few months," he called over his shoulder as he ran for the room where their gear had been stored.

Hurriedly changing into his flight suit, he joined the other Rogues in the squad's hangar.

"Know something, Wedge?" Jesina asked as she double-checked her gear one last time. "Pulling us out of a high-profile state dinner probably blew any element of surprise we may have had."

"Yeah, well, let's hope Cracken thought of that."

"And let's hope we weren't the cause of another diplomatic incident," Wes chimed in with a grin.

"At least this time it's not really our fault," Hobbie called across the hangar as he dropped into the cockpit.

"Oh, they'd find a way to blame us," Wes retorted, following suit.

Wedge, too, climbed into the cockpit. He put his helmet on and ran through the start-up sequence, then keyed the comm. "All right, Rogues, report in."

"Rogue Three ready to fly."

"Four, four lit and in the green."

"Five, good to go."

"Six, I'm okay for now."

Wedge and the other waited expectantly for Jesina's voice to follow Hobbie's. When it didn't he called out, "Seven?"

"Ah, got a problem, Lead. Only two lit. Repeat, only two engines up and running."

Wedge swore under his breath. "Okay, two flight, pace Seven on the way up. We'll get someone to look at it up there. Any other problems?"

"None."

There were no problems with the rest of the Rogue fighters and the flight up to _Lusankya_ was, although slow, otherwise uneventful.

The Wraiths – a unit formed by Wedge as an x-wing squadron but later recommissioned as an Intelligence unit – were waiting for Rogue Squadron when they arrived. Their commanding officer, Garik "Face" Loran, waited while Wedge ordered an overhaul of Jesina's fighter, then said, "I've got all the info you need for the mission."

"Glad to know that someone does."

"What's wrong with her fighter?"

Wedge scowled. "Two engines down."

"It's not my fault, Wedge," Jesina defended herself. "I ran a complete systems check last night. It was perfect."

"Well, it's obviously not now."

It was her turn to scowl. "I've been flying as long as you have. Would you have missed something like that? A two-engine failure?"

"I wouldn't think so. But neither would I expect Corran to shoot at me, or Tycho to be hospitalized because he's suicidal. So as far as I'm concerned, anything is possible." He sighed and, frustrated, ran a hand through his hair. "Calm down, Jesina. I'm not blaming you, so don't worry about it."

Face rested a hand on Wedge's shoulder. "I was sorry to hear about Corran and Tycho."

Wedge shrugged him off. "Just two more losses to a squadron that's already lost too many."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence that lasted until Face said, "Oh, Wedge, we need to speak to Myn as well."

Wedge frowned. "Do I want to know why?"

"You can probably guess."

He sighed. "I can only imagine." He shook his head. "You can talk to him after you give me whatever details you have, because I'd really like to know what's going on. And why I'm commanding a task force that lends itself more to liberating a planet than a single person, high-priority or not."

"Kell is waiting for us in the briefing room right off the hangar. I thought we'd go over the basics now, warn Myn about Lara...Kirney...whoever, then go over the details with everyone."

Wedge nodded and, motioning for Jesina, Wes, and Hobbie to follow him, walked with Face to where Kell Tainer, the Wraith's second-in-command, waited.

"All right," Face said once everyone was seated, "First I need to warn you that I don't know much about what we're doing – just the bare minimum to get the job done. I'll go over where we're going, then how we're going to get there – and who's waiting for us."

"We're currently en route to Zhar. It's remarkable in that it's remained virtually untouched throughout the war. It has no known political leanings, preferring instead to remain neutral. However, Intel indicates that someone has set up shop there. Specifically," he paused, entering a few commands into his datapad, "Here."

A holographic image appeared of the table, a cluster of buildings surrounding a rectangular courtyard. "What is it?" Wedge asked.

"It was an industrial complex that closed down a few years ago." He pointed to one set of buildings. "The entire northwest corner was destroyed by an explosion. That's why the complex closed. But since the whole property was bought by a man named Lekar Sootan, it's been rebuilt."

"Never heard of him," Wes said.

"No reason you should have. He doesn't exist. There's no information on him anywhere. His sole purpose is to own this complex. And it's in here," he gestured again, "that we believe our target is being held.

"Who is our target?" Jesina asked.

Face shrugged. "No one knows, except General Cracken. All I've been told is that when we see him we'll know we've got the right guy." The intelligence mans eyes showed his displeasure with the arrangement.

"Terrific," Wedge muttered. He ran a hand through his hair. "Do we have a plan in place to get him out?"

"We do." He handed Wedge a package. "ID's for several of your people. Zhar has been trying to convince off-worlders to move there from Coruscant and other populous worlds. You know, escape the overcrowding and all that. That's going to be the cover for some of you, and the cover for moving in the gear we need. The rest is going to be a business trip – business owners and a team of consultants or something like that."

"All right. Now, how do we get on planet?"

"The Wraiths who are going down are going in under cover ID's we've already established. Your people are heading down on two different ships, both of which are rendezvousing with us when we come out of hyperspace."

"Whose ships?" Wedge asked.

"One is Mara Jade's. She may be seen as aligned with the New Republic, but she's still first and foremost a trader. The only catch with Mara is that she'll get us in – she has legit business there anyway – but she won't get us out."

"Typical Mara Jade," Wes mumbled. "Who's the other Captain?"

"A woman Winter and Iella – yes, they were assigned here – know, who was apparently working on Zhar. A former Rebel, I guess, though she had no interest in telling me what she does now."

Wedge frowned. He didn't like dealing with wild cards. "What's her name?"

Face shrugged. "She wouldn't give it."

"I heard Winter say it once," Kell interrupted. "Sounded something like Elsca."

Wedge felt the knot that had started to form in his stomach tighten. "Elscol? Elscol Loro?"

Kell nodded. "Yeah, that's it. You know her?"

"She was a Rogue," Wedge said softly, the knot now turning into a block of ice. "You said she was on-planet on her own?"

Face nodded. "That's right. You say it like it's a bad thing."

Wedge, Wes, and Hobbie exchanged uneasy glances. "This doesn't bode well, boss," Wes remarked.

Frowning, Face asked, "Anyone care to explain?"

"Elscol left the Alliance because she didn't like the way things were being handled, and she decided after Tycho's trial that she wasn't too fond of the New Republic."

"So she left. So did General Bel Iblis. What's the big deal?"

"I'm getting to that. You see, after Elscol left, she stayed in the business of breaking down the Empire. She helped Rogue Squadron liberate Thyferra, and she still does it, last I knew."

"She's an insurrectionist," Hobbie explained. "She uses the skills she gained during the Rebellion to coordinate populations to overthrow governments."

"But there's nothing wrong with the government on Zhar," Face objected, confused.

"Elscol doesn't just overthrow leaders already in place. She also organizes resistance efforts," Wes told him. "Which means—"

"She probably has reason to believe that someone is planning on taking over Zhar," Jesina finished for him.

"Well, that explains this," Kell said, tapping his datapad.

"What?" The word rolled off the lips of just about everyone in the room.

"Just before you all landed, we got a transmission from Iella. Runt told me, because you were busy." Hohass Ekwesh, known as Runt, was the Wraith's communications officer. "An Imperial Star Destroyer Mark II and a Corellian heavy cruiser are in orbit around Zhar."

Face swore. "Either they know we're coming and they really want that prisoner to stay a prisoner, or that's the beginning of a very hostile takeover."

"I'm betting it's the latter," Wedge said.

"Why?" Hobbie asked.

"We've been sent on a rescue mission with a Super Star Destroyer and two Imperial-class, with 22 squadrons of fighter support."

"Sounds like overkill to me," Jesina commented, knowing exactly where Wedge was headed.

"Not overkill. Just preparation for one hell of a fight – one Cracken had to know was coming."


	9. Briefing

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 9: Briefing

---------------

Four hours later Wedge stood at the front of a large meeting room. The meeting with Myn Donos about Kirney Slane had gone better than expected, and Wedge was glad. Kirney had gotten close to Myn when she'd served with the Wraiths as Lara Notsil. However, when her true identity – as former Imperial Intelligence officer Gara Petothel – was revealed, she fled after Donos, whose squadron had been wiped out by her actions during her Imperial service, had fired on her.

Wedge didn't know how she'd ended up working with the Wraiths again, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. He glanced out at the people waiting for him to speak. Commanding and Executive officers from all the squadrons about _Lusankya_, as well as the ship's captain and first officer were present, as were all the Rogues and Wraiths. "Attention please," he called.

Instantly all eyes were on him. "I know that none of you have any clue what our mission is. I'm going to clear that up for you as best I can. _Lusankya_, _Emancipator_, and _Rebel Savior_ are heading for a rendezvous point just outside Tatooine space. Rogue and Wraith Squadrons will be heading on from there to complete the mission this whole trip is geared toward. But, for the rest of you, there are some things you need to know."

"There is no major Imperial presence in or around Tatooine. However, there is at least one Imperial Star Destroyer in orbit around the planet Zhar. We don't know if they have a larger complement than that at Zhar, or anywhere in the vicinity. And we don't know if they know where we're going to be. We also don't know what kind of reaction the Rogues and Wraiths' mission is going to provoke. So from here on in, your job is going to be simply to be prepared – for literally anything. We're on alert from now on. Any questions?"

"Are the Rogues and Wraiths going to need air support?" That question came from Pash Cracken, and Wedge knew he was hoping the answer was yes. Waiting around was not his thing. No such luck for the Aces.

"Taken care of," Face Loran replied from his seat to the left of where Wedge stood.

"I take it we don't get to know where you're headed?" Iline Jesmin, the major in charge of Legacy Squadron, another A-Wing unit, called out.

"Wedge glanced in her direction. He was glad to have her and Pash aboard. Pash had been a Rogue at one point, and Iline had been on Hoth when Rogue Squadron was there. They were two people whose strengths he knew well. And he could count on both of them to run the show here while he was off rescuing whoever the target was. "That's need to know, major." He made a mental not to add Iline and Pash to the list of people who needed to know. "Anything else? No? Good. Now, with the exception of Rogue and Wraith Squadrons and Majors Cracken and Jesmin, you're dismissed."

He watched Iline speak softly to her XO before heading toward him, and was struck by a resemblance he saw in her features to another woman with whom he'd interacted recently. "Iline, are you any relation to a Doctor Ishana Lur?"

"She's my youngest sister, sir. Why?" Then recognition dawned in her eyes. "Oh yes. Colonel Celchu."

He looked at her sharply. "You know about that?"

"Ah, sir, it's been the biggest item in the sludgenews for a while now. I think it's safe to say that the whole galaxy knows."

"And that's how you found out?"

"Well, no. The night she found out she'd be treating Tycho, she called me. She wanted a professional opinion on his capabilities from someone whose judgment she was familiar with."

"And what did you tell her, if you don't mind my asking?"

Iline hesitated. "I told her that he was one of the best officers – most fair, and most competent – I've ever had the good fortune to serve with or under. And I told her that even now, knowing he's got some problems, I wouldn't hesitate to follow him into any situation." She paused again. "That's the truth, Wedge. He's always been the kind of man who built the Alliance. And he always will be, whatever happens."

"Thank you, Iline."  
  
"Was that all, sir?"

He noticed the shift back into the formality of professional conversation. "No, it wasn't. How do you feel about the possibility of leading twenty fighter squadrons into battle, Iline?"

She blanched. "I do hope you're joking, sir."

He just smiled. "Have a seat, people, and the venerable Commander Loran will fill us in on how were going to achieve our objective."

Face offered a low bow, and then straightened. "First off, I'd like to say that I have no idea why you two," he pointed at Pash and Iline, "are here. That said, down to business."

"We're heading for the planet Zhar, where we're supposed to rescue someone."

"Someone?" Gavin Darklighter repeated. "Don't we get to know who?"

"Ah, no. All we know is that it's important that we get him, and that we'll recognize him when we see him. Great, isn't it?" He was met with a chorus of groans.

"This is where he's being held, a vacant industrial complex." The same hologram that Face had shown the senior Rogues earlier appeared. He pointed to the set of buildings he'd indicated earlier, and then gestured to another set. This is going to our base of operations. It's the oldest section of the complex, the most run down and generally the most ignored."

Wedge took advantage of the pause to pass around the Ids and information datacards. "These are your identities for what Face is about to explain."

"Were putting a couple of teams on the ground. The first is the smallest – Myn and Inyri as a married couple and Hobbie as Inyri's brother who are moving to the planet for reasons explained in your character information. The other is bigger. It's Jesina and Wes as a wealthy married couple who own an interplanetary company looking to expand outside the core. Gavin, Kell, Tyria and I will be their advisors. Any questions?"

"Yeah. What happens when Wes forgets he's married and goes home with someone else?" Hobbie asked, snickering.

Face shrugged. "Jesina does what any self-respecting wife would do – beats him to a pulp." He turned to Jesina. "But try not to completely incapacitate him, all right. We do need him." She just smiled, and Wes looked slightly nervous.

"Now, the rest of you don't get off easy. There are two other teams. One is ground support. Kirney, Piggy, Shalla, Elassar, and Runt will be responsible for, among other things, picking us up after we go in – we're operating under the assumption that our target won't be able to participate much in his own rescue – and for getting us out." He paused. "Kirney is going to be in charge of that since she's been doing most of the setup for this mission and knows what has to happen when." There were nods of approval and agreement throughout the group.

"The last team is air support. Wedge, Ooryll, Duryll, Ensa and Dia will either come in over the complex if needed or they'll cover our run from the planet, or both."

"How are we getting on and off planet?"

Face told them about Elscol and Mara. "Mara's been known to ferry passengers from time to time, as long as they're willing to pay exorbitant amounts of money, so that won't get a second glance. Teams one and two are going with her. The ground team is going with Elscol when she gets to us at Tatooine. They're going in early to make sure everything's set – and to find us another way out. Elscol's willing, but she has her own agenda and I don't want us to screw it up for her."

"All right," Wedge said when Face had finished. "Now, the reason I asked Pash and Iline to stay. With the Rogues gone, you two are ranking Starfighter officers. Now, I'm placing Captain Ackrand in command of the task force itself." Dehra Ackrand was the _Lusankya's_ captain. "But if fighters come this way, I want you two in command of the fighters. You're the two officers I'm most familiar with, and you know how I like things done. And I know I can count on you."

"We'll do our best, Wedge," Pash said. He had no questions about his own capability to lead, but it was still a tall order to fill and a lot of people to manage.

"I know you will. Dismissed."

---------------

The rest of the trip to the Tatooine system was uneventful. Until Elscol arrived, that is. He greeted her warmly, but noticed how tired she looked. She apparently saw the same in him. "It's really taking a toll on you." It wasn't a question.

"What is?" he asked as they walked down the corridor that was the quickest route between the main hangar bay and Wedge's office.

"Oh, command, Horn, Tycho." She touched his arm as he entered the code to open his office door and he turned to look at her. "I was sorry to hear about Tycho. Though I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you that I wasn't surprised."

His eyes widened as he sat down behind his desk. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "There's a reason you and Tycho are best friends, and there's a reason Janson and Hobbie are as close as they are. You're two different sets of two of a kind. Hobbie and Janson let things roll off them. That's how they manage to keep going. They don't let themselves take everything to heart. They don't have as much baggage as you and Tycho. Of course, that's partly because they don't have as much responsibility. But that suits them." Abruptly she stood and walked over to the table where Wedge kept a pot of caf hot. Do you mind?" He shook his head. "Want some?"

"Sure." He took the mug she offered and took a sip. It was bitter and strong – the kind of caf brewed only in Senate and CorSec offices and pilot lounges. In short, the kind of caf he'd lived off of for the better part of thirteen years. "You were saying?"

She swallowed and smiled. "You and Tycho, on the other hand, have always had a lot of responsibility on your shoulders – whether or not you should have. You two never had the opportunity to be carefree. And you've always taken things to heart because you've had to."

He shook his head. By your logic I should have put a blaster to my head a long time ago."

"But there's a difference between you and Tycho. First, and most obvious, you don't have the burden of having fought against the Alliance – and for the people who killed your family." She took another sip of caf. "Also, you have less trouble talking to people than he does. You hold things inside long enough, something's got to give sometime. Horn's death was the breaking point for him."

Wedge shook his head again. "I was never very good at psychology. Anyway, what I really want to know is why you're on Zhar."

"Why am I ever anywhere?"

"I know that." He frowned and swallowed the last of his caf. "But there's no Imperial presence on Zhar, other than the one we're going in to remove. And for the life of me I can't see why the Imperials would even be interested in Zhar at all."

She, too, drained her mug. "I could really use something stronger than this." Then she shrugged. "To answer your question, two months ago I was asking myself the same thing. But then I learned that whoever it is that's running the Empire now has somehow gotten the idea that there was another lab, very similar to the Maw Installation where the Emperor had people working on a very special project. Two, really, according to whatever reports they've apparently unearthed."

Wedge felt his stomach twist into knots. "What kinds of projects?"

"One was a weapon that, theoretically, would be more powerful than the Death Star, though how they could do that I have no idea. The other was a biological agent that was powerful enough for a small amount to wipe out whole worlds – but controlled enough to be used to assassinate a single person."

The knot in Wedge's stomach grew tighter. It seemed that that was happening a lot lately. "And this lab is on Zhar?"

She nodded. "If it exists, yes. Though no one knows if it does or not. But on the off-chance that it does, Imperials are taking steps to find it."

"How could he keep a lab like that, located on a populated world, a secret?"

"The man buried a Super Star Destroyer on the most populated planet in the galaxy without anyone knowing about it. Nothing amazes me anymore."

"Very true," Wedge conceded. "So you're organizing a resistance effort?"

"And helping you people out."

"We appreciate it."

"I know you do. But I doubt Cracken would, which is part of the reason I'm doing it."

Wedge shook his head. "You really don't like him, do you?"

Elscol laughed. "Not in the least. I was thrilled to hear about Booster Terrik getting to keep an ImpStar Deuce."

"To tell the truth, so was I," Wedge said with a laugh.

"Good." Elscol stood and stretched. "It was good talking to you, but I hope I don't see you again in the vicinity of Zhar. That would mean something went wrong."

"I second that." Wedge stood and hugged her. "Now, go collect your charges."

"Tell Tycho I'm thinking of him."

"I will." Then she was gone and Wedge stood a long time staring at the door and thinking about how his life had taken such a different path from hers – and that only a decade ago they'd been at the exact same place.


	10. Strategy

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 10: Strategy

---------------

Wes slipped his arm around Jesina's waist and she was surprised at how natural it felt. He'd had more than his share of undercover assignments and usually he was more than a little uncomfortable. A quick glance as she stepped forward told her that their "advisors" had formed a solid line behind them, except for Face who, acting as a personal assistant, had handed the planetary security officers their information. "Dack and Laryn Tesa of Coruscant. Purpose of your visit to Zhar?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Tesa are here on business, seeking to expand their shipping business," Face answered for them. "I am Mr. Tesa's assistant, and these," he gestured to Gavin, Kell and Tyria. "Please direct any questions to me."

"Business," the official muttered, eyes narrowing in Face's direction. "Welcome to Zhar."

He stepped aside to allow them to pass and as they walked by, Jesina laid a hand on his arm. "My apologies. My husband's assistant is slightly...overzealous."

"Welcome to Zhar, ma'am," he said again.

Hobbie, Inyri, and Myn followed the "advisors." Myn handed the official their identification. "Marik and Teryn Seltin and Turyll Jeva. Purpose of your visit?"

"Relocation," Hobbie, as Turyll, said, barely masking his disdain. "My sister's husband is trying to get her as far from our family as possible."

"Not your family," Myn retorted. "There's two much crime on Coruscant. It's not safe for her." Inyri rolled her eyes and looked ready to kill her "husband" and "brother."

The official shook his head. "Welcome to Zhar." He sighed as they passed, and it was Jesina's guess that it was a sigh of relief that they were moving on.

Mara, as herself, was next. She wore a smile that was obviously forced. "Friends of yours, Captain Jade?"

He smile turned to a scowl. "Good money, but Sith take them all. Though I do feel for the last girl. If it were me, I'd have shot them by now. She probably would have too, but they won't let her near so much as a kitchen knife."

He shook his head. "Business as usual, Captain?"

"Business as usual. And when I leave, no passengers. Possibly ever again."

---------------

Jesina placed the last crate gently on the floor and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Faces briefing on this place had failed to include one fact – this world was hot. Not Tatooine hot, but hot nonetheless.

She sank to her knees in the middle of the floor. There was nothing to do for now. They couldn't unpack – if anyone saw the assortment of explosives, blasters – pistols, carbines, and rifles – and other weaponry they possessed, they'd be in big trouble. Although, if anyone got close enough to the area to know it was inhabited, they'd be in trouble, so she guessed it was a moot point, but the less trouble they set themselves up for, the better.

She stood and sighed. Later they'd have a brief planning session when Hobbie, Inyri, and Myn came over from the apartment they'd "rented." But for now, there was nothing to do but act the part of Janson's wife.

Janson's wife. Face Loran was going to pay for this one. It was his idea of a joke, she knew, although Janson pretending to be even remotely serious about anyone would be a joke in and of itself. The Rogues signature woman-chaser would never settle down, and definitely not with her. Though Force or Fate might find it amusing to prove her wrong on that.

She shook herself out of the strange train of thought. There was one thing she could unpack, and they'd certainly need it later – the caf machine.

---------------

Nightfall found the nine of them sitting in a circle on the floor in the middle of the cavernous room.

"All right," Face said. "The ground team got word to us that some of the windows in the target section of the complex have been filled in with duracrete."

"Safe bet that that's where the prisoner is being held," Wes commented, sipping his caf distractedly.

Jesina nodded. "They also tell us that there are sentries posted outside the building at all times."

"There are some inside, too, but not as many," Tyria told them.

"So we need to figure out who it's going to be easier to take out," Hobbie said.

"Outside, they're bound to be farther apart and the natural noises will help cover up our actions," Tyria pointed out.

"But either way, we're going to have to take all the guards out of the picture," Gavin observed. "Think about it – to get in we're going to have to deal with the guards inside. And if they're like any operation we've ever broken up before, the guards outside will be in regular contact with the ones inside. And the moment someone doesn't reply, we'll have them – and whatever reinforcements they call in – to deal with, too."

"Right," Inyri agreed. "But we don't need nine people to go in after this prisoner. We should reorganize into two teams – five go in and four take out the exterior guards."

"Good idea. I should probably be outside," Myn pointed out. "You won't need a sniper inside."

"True," Tyria said. "And that means Wes should be inside. He's the best with a pistol.

"You should be outside," Wes told her, tacitly agreeing with her assessment. "Having you inside would be a waste of your talents." It was true. Tyria was the most skilled ground operative in either unit, having relied on her abilities for years just to survive on her home world.

"I think Jesina should be inside," Kell said. "She's mission commander, and it's important for her to be where things have the most opportunity to go wrong, so she can fix any problems."

Jesina had remained quiet for most of the conversation, preferring instead to let the others have a role in the planning. It was the same approach Wedge often took with the Rogues and Wraiths. If anyone had said anything that she disagreed with, she'd have spoken up before now. But she did want to make sure she had some control where this was going, and that key aspects that she didn't want overlooked. "All right. If Wes and I are both going in, I want someone I'm familiar with to be outside. That means you, Hobbie."

He nodded. "You should take Tainer. We won't have need for explosives outside. At least, we shouldn't. If we do, we'll be in more trouble than we have a right to get out of."

"So that leaves me, Face, and Gavin," Inyri said. "I don't think any of us have any particular strengths either way."

"Except that Gavin's big," Face reminded her. "I'm betting that the prisoner isn't going to be in any shape to walk out of there."

"Which means that someone will have to carry him. And with their specific skills, Wes and Kell might both be otherwise occupied," Jesina continued. "So, Gavin, you're going in, too."

Tyria spoke up. "Since we're splitting up Rogue command, we should probably do the same with Wraiths and put you outside, Face."

"Good enough. Now we just need to figure out how to get in and out," Face said.

"And say a few heartfelt prayers that the ground team is ready to get us out when we're ready to go, Jesina added.

"Well, we can take care of the praying thing after," Wes replied. "But what say we figure out how we're going to do this? Because it won't matter if they're ready for us if we go and get ourselves killed."

"So how are we going to get in?" Gavin asked. "Going through the main door means taking out the guards outside first. Which would give our friends inside warning that we're coming."

"Taken care of," Face said. "Another useful bit of information I got from Kirney. Apparently, before Zhar had a world government, this complex was the site of the home of the leader of one of the nations. When it was built, they put in underground tunnels. When it was torn down, the tunnels were sealed – but not so thoroughly that we won't be able to get through them. One starts outside, just beyond the back wall of this building, and comes up just inside the main door to the Northwest cluster, where our prisoner is supposed to be."

"But how do we get in?" Inyri asked. "I'm assuming it was sealed of with duracrete. That's what they usually use."

Face shook his head. "Not here. They used durasteel. And we have – among other things – a handy little laser welder that will do nicely."

"Sounds like you've got everything all figured out," Wes commented. "I say we let him do all the work, too." He put his hands, clasped, behind his head and leaned back. Jesina, as revenge for him getting a little too into their husband and wife roles, reached over had gave him a not-so-gentle shove. Only his quick reflexes kept him from hitting his head on the floor. Sitting up with a scowl, he feinted toward her but she scrambled away.

"I wouldn't. I've had hand-to-hand training more recently than you, and I'm faster."

"Ah, but I've got size on you."

"Where?" she asked with a smirk. "Your mouth? Yeah, I'll agree with that."

Hobbie shook his head. "The man who invented Lieutenant Kettch and the woman who mocked General Riekkan to his face. Tycho's right. You two do belong together."

To her dismay, Jesina felt her face grow hot. She turned to Wes. "He's right. We're setting a bad example for the children. We'd better shape up. Wedge will kill me if I bring him back a squadron full of the two of us."

"Point taken. So, he turned back to face the rest of the team, "all that's left is to figure out how to coordinate our attack from inside with your attack from outside."

Tyria leaned forward. "How conspicuous is the area around the entrance to the tunnel?"

"It's hidden pretty well, by trees and some bushes," Face told her.

"Hidden well enough for the inside team to go through it tomorrow night, to time how long it takes? And so cutting their way in is one less thing for them to have to worry about the next night?"

"Kind of a dress rehearsal?" Face asked. "Yeah, I think we can do that."

"And we've got a couple of those camouflage tarps to lay over it afterward," Kell said, "so no one should notice our handiwork."

"And it'll prevent us from going stir-crazy from just sitting around waiting," Gavin said.

"Though we'll still be doing a lot of that," Wes warned him.

"The only problem with this is that it increases our risk of getting caught," Jesina reminded them all.

"That's true," Myn said. "But knowing a time frame could save all our necks. I say we do it." There was a murmur of agreement around the circle.

"All right," Jesina said finally. "I want the interior team to meet here tomorrow at, ah, 1900 hours. It'll be starting to get dark, so that'll give us some prep time before the sun is completely gone. Then we'll do our stuff and everyone – both teams – meet back here at 0130. Good?" Among a chorus of "yeses" the room slowly emptied of everyone but her and Wes. Slowly she stood and tried to shake away the feeling of dread that had suddenly settled over her.


	11. Dress Rehearsal

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 11: Dress Rehearsal

---------------

As Jesina suited up the next evening, she thought over the day. Shed been reminded of her least favorite part of Intelligence work – the waiting. She actually felt sorry for Wes, who'd been the one stuck with putting up with her for most of the day.

Wes watched her from the doorway. The rest of the team was ready, but she seemed to be taking longer. Watching her, though, he could see why.

Jesina was the most seasoned operative of any of them. From before Endor to just after the death of both Ysanne Isard and her clone, she'd relied on her skills to stay alive during her tenure with the NRI. And even before that, really, in her time smuggling. He'd bet she'd even put CorSec-trained Iella to shame.

Like the others, her clothes were all black, and her hair was hidden under her cap. In addition to the belt and holster at her hip she wore a vest that enabled her to carry two more blaster pistols. As he stood there she fastened a modified vibroblade to her wrist. All she had to do was flick her wrist a certain way and the blade would instantly extend.

His trained eye instantly caught the differences between her and the rest of the team. In addition to the infrared goggles on her head, she wore a different headpiece. It looped around the back of her head and had a lens that was usually retracted and above her ear, but could extend out over her eye. It also had a built-in microphone and earpiece that freed her up from carrying a comlink. On her feet she didn't wear boots. Rather, she wore a light slipper with a deep tread, giving her good traction but a lighter step. She looked, in short, like a spy.

"Why did you leave intelligence?"

She didn't look up. "Because I couldn't take the games anymore. When two people are on the same side, they're supposed to help each other out, not stab each other in the back." She sighed. "The debacle that they put you all through at Adumar confirmed that my decision was the right one."

"Why'd you go to work for Cracken in the first place?"

"Because he needed people with my skills. Because I didn't think I had the discipline to be a pilot. Because I had watched too many people die because of bad intelligence reports. I wanted to change that. And, for a while, I did. But then it was politics getting people killed instead of NRI not doing their jobs, and I knew that wasn't the place for me anymore. I've never played games like that, and I wasn't about to start now."

She shoved two spare power packs into the open bag on her bed and cinched it shut. She checked the chronometer on her wrist and looked up. "Come on, we've got work to do."

Brushing by him, she walked into the main room. "All right. Everyone tell me what they're doing." 

"Getting us in," Kell said. He'd been welding through the durasteel blocking the entrance to the tunnel system.

"Shielding while Kell's cutting," Inyri said, "and then checking for security." Jesina had two concerns about them getting cut. She was worried that someone would see the light from the welding, and she was worried that the tunnels might have been outfitted with some kind of security.

"Timing and marking the route," Gavin chimed in. That was, after all, the whole point to this trip. They hadn't been able to find a complete map to the tunnels, and Jesina hoped that this excursion would take the guesswork out of it for the next night. Plus, they needed to be able to give the exterior team an estimate of when they'd be about to go in.

"Rear guard." That was Janson.

"And I'm lead," Jesina finished. "Anything happens to me, and Janson takes lead—"

"And I take over rear guard," Kell completed her sentence. We've got it, Colonel. We're set."

She spun around, her pointed finger nearly taking out his eye. "That is your first mistake. Never assume everyone knows where they're supposed to be. Because there's always a chance that they don't. And that gets people killed."

Jesina turned back to face the others. "All right. No comlinks. We're close enough that we don't need them, and they're a risk factor. I want to take them out of the equation here and now. We have them, but we don't use them. Understood?" Everyone nodded.

"All right. Designations here on in. Wraith Five, Rogue Eleven, you head out first. Twelve, follow after ninety seconds. Rogue Five and I follow after ninety more. Go."

With nods of acknowledgement, Kell and Inyri slipped out the door, and Jesina fixed her eyes on her chrono. Once the allotted time had passed she reached out to nudge Gavin but her hand met air – the Rogue was already moving. Another ninety seconds and she and Janson were gone as well.

As they reached the clearing where the entrance was supposed to be located, Jesina was pleased to note that the sparks from the welder were not at all visible until they got close. Inyri was doing her part.

"This entrance wasn't hidden very well," Gavin whispered as she crouched next to them. "It's possible someone knows about it."

"They probably do," she replied. "If we could find out about these tunnels, I'm sure they have. We've just got to hope that they either think we don't know about it, or won't use it even if we do."

"If they think Wedge is here, they wont leave anything to chance," Janson interrupted in a low voice. "Between the Rogues and the Wraiths he's gotten a reputation for doing whatever it takes."

Before Jesina could reply she heard Inyri's urgent whisper, "We're in."

"Good." Jesina moved so she was positioned nearest the tunnel entrance, and shone a lamp down into the darkness. No stairs, no ladder, but it's shallow enough to drop," she said softly.

Then she swung her legs over the edge of the opening. Jesina braced herself, and then dropped as slowly as her muscles – and gravity – would allow.

She landed, perfectly balanced, on the balls of her feet. Straightening up, Jesina swung her light around and moved out of the way.

Inyri landed softly beside her, followed by Gavin, Kell, and finally Wes. "Everyone all right?" she whispered. The dim light was just barely enough to let her see everyone nod. "All right. Let's go."

She walked slowly, slightly bent over, and stopped every few meters to listen. Wes, from his spot at the back, watched her progress. Over the years he and the Rogues had gotten a lot of practice in the art of intrusion – his time with the Wraiths especially. But he couldn't remember working with someone as experienced in it as Jesina.

Her footsteps were absolutely silent, and she somehow made herself blend into the shadows better than the others did, a fact that was made especially clear to him when he almost walked into Kell, directly in front of him, because he couldn't tell that she was no longer walking.

"What is it?" he asked in a low voice, hand dropping to his blaster.

When Jesina turned, he saw that the lens on her headpiece was extended. "There's an infrared beam across the path three meters ahead. We'll have to crawl under it. Everyone, take your gear off and push it along in front of you." Wes had to strain to hear her, but when he did, he nodded, dropping to the ground, as did the others. The group pulled themselves along the cold floor for a distance that Wes was certain was more than a few meters. But Jesina was still on the ground, and he figured she knew better than he how not to get caught.

Just as he was beginning to be sure he'd never be able to get up, he saw Jesina rise into a crouch, and motion for them to gather around her.

"There's a surveillance camera up ahead, one on each side of the corridor. We go any farther, we'll be caught. I'll have to ask Wraith Lead if his slicer can do something about them before tomorrow night."

"She probably can," Kell murmured.

"We better hope so," Wes replied. Then he looked at Gavin. "What's the time?"

"Thirty-two thirty from when Five and Eleven left to here, twenty-six five from when we opened the tunnel to here."

"All right. Let's get out of here." Jesina slipped around them to where Wes was standing. "You want to lead back, or me?"

He motioned for her to go ahead. "This is your party."

She grinned, and then turned to face Gavin. "Twelve, did you—"

"I put a marker here, and I put one where we started crawling. Along the wall – our right when we were coming in – about a centimeter off the floor."

She nodded, and turned back to Wes. "I'm impressed."

He shrugged. "What do you expect? Wedge trained them."

"He did well." She dropped to her knees and started crawling back the way they'd come. Once they'd reached Gavin's marker she stood and walked the rest of the way at a brisk pace. The trip back took substantially less time than the way in and soon the group was at the entrance.

"Now how do we get out?" Gavin asked.

Jesina motioned to Wes, who had come up beside her. "Give me the cable, and one of you boys give me a boost up. The rest of you can climb out once I secure it.

Wes pulled the heavy-duty, metal-thread cable from his pack and handed it to her. She slipped it over her shoulder as he dropped to one knee, interlocking his fingers and giving her something to stand on.

Jesina settled one foot onto his hands and rested her hand on his shoulder for balance. Once he was sure she was steady, he rose slowly, just until she was high enough to pull herself up. On the surface, she stayed low to the ground. Catching sight of a durasteel beam that ran the length of the building, she took the cable from her shoulder and wrapped it around the beam. Giving it a firm tug, she nodded in satisfaction, then crawled back to the tunnel's entrance and tossed the loose end down to the rest of the team. Inyri was the first out, followed by Gavin, Kell, and then Wes.

"Eleven, twelve, head back." She waited until they were gone to give her next order. "Wraith five, cover it and then get back." Kell nodded curtly and drew the tarp from his backpack as Jesina and Wes disappeared into the darkness.

After they made it back to the warehouse where they were based out of for the next day or so, Jesina disappeared into the smaller storage room that she was using as her "bedroom" and did not emerge until the rest of the team had congregated in the main area.

When she did come out, she looked calmer, more relaxed than she had been, and Wes was glad. She sank to the floor beside him and pulled out her datapad. "All right, down to business."

"They do have security down in the tunnel we used," she told those that hadn't been there, "But it shouldn't be a problem. They've got lasers going for about ten meters once we get over halfway through. Hit one of them and it will not only alert them to an intruder, but also, doors will come down all through the tunnels. We'd be trapped." There was a bit of murmuring among the group. No one, Wes included, had caught that.

"There are also a couple of cameras at the end, one on each side of the corridor. No blind spots."

"Are these insurmountable obstacles?" Face asked.

Wes shook his head. "The laser beams we can get by – we did tonight. The cameras – we haven't gotten by them yet, but we'll be able to. Can you get in touch with Slane?"

Face nodded. "If I have to."

"You have to. We need her to bring down one or two of the cameras – one will be enough, but two will be safer. Or, if she can swing it, cut power to the complex, or at least that part."

"We know how long it takes to get there, so we can give her a time to shoot for." Face nodded and made a note on his datapad.

I want everyone to meet back here at 2200 tomorrow. Until then, the rest of you stay in your storage rooms, unless absolutely necessary. After we regroup, I want us moving by 2215. That'll but us at the cameras no later than 2245, probably before that. And it's only about twenty meters from there to the end."

"And that's when it gets fun," Wes muttered.

"Precisely." She brushed her hair back from her face. "Remember, if anything happens to me, Janson takes over. Then Hobbie, then Loran. And if all four of us are out—"

"We'll all probably be dead so it won't much matter," Gavin finished for her.

"Actually, I was going to say we're omega, but that's a good point." Jesina paused. "Any questions?" When no one spoke, she said, "All right. Face, get in touch with Slane, give her our timeframe, and report back to me. Other than that, stay hidden."

There was a murmur of agreement, then they all split up. Jesina too retreated to her little room, determined to shake the bad feeling that had once again settled over her.


	12. No Guarantees

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 12: No Guarantees

---------------

The next night she was suited up before the others came out of their hiding places. After quickly reviewing where everyone would be and when, they set out.

For Jesina's team it was a repeat of the previous nigh, only more smoothly and with a few added concerns. Would Kirney Slane be able to cut the power on time? Would the rest of the team get caught? Would Slane and the others be there to get them out on time? Would their air support arrive, if they were needed?

A thousand questions ran through Jesina's mind, but she managed to push them all aside from the moment they entered the tunnel. Both piloting and her intelligence training had taught her how to focus, even in the most chaotic of situations, and now she was grateful for the practice.

They made it to the point where they'd stopped the night before, reaching the cameras by 2240. And at 2243 she heard a click on her headpiece's comlink and smiled in spite of herself. That was the signal from Slane that she'd brought the power down. They were in the clear – for the moment anyway.

As quickly as she dared, Jesina led the group past the cameras and to the end of the corridor. The five of them gathered next to the wall, and Kell pointed up. "We need to cut through there. It'll bring us in inside the door, but the guards will probably notice."

"Well, do what you can to not have them notice," Wes said, "And the rest of us will have to be ready."

He stepped back next to Jesina to give Kell room to work, as the Wraith pulled the laser welder case from his pack. After taking the tool out, he set it on the ground. The hard case would give him the extra height he needed to reach the ceiling.

As Wes moved out of the way he drew his blaster. Then, suddenly, he turned to Jesina and kissed her quickly. "For luck," he whispered in her ear. In the dim light the welder gave off as Kell powered it up, she could see his smile. It wasn't the trademark Janson grin, and the look in his eyes made her wonder if he'd been plagued by the same anxious feelings she'd been suffering.

"For luck," she repeated back to him, then drew her own blaster and held it ready, aimed at the spot they'd be going through in a few moments. With her other hand she clicked her comlink, a signal to everyone outside that they were in position. "Okay, do it."

The whole time Kell was cutting into the ceiling, Jesina felt herself growing tenser. By the time he pulled the panel down, she fully expected the man to be blown away by waiting stormtroopers.

Then she heard Kell curse, and stared at him, startled. "What is it?"

"This doesn't take us directly in. There's a crawl space between the ceiling here and the floor above. Probably has access grates in some of the rooms."

"That's bad why?" Gavin asked.

"If they're expecting someone to try this way – which it looks like they were – they'll probably have the access gates rigged to blow. Which means more work for me, more danger for us, and more time necessary to pull this off."

"Can we just cut through the floor?" Inyri asked. "Like we planned to?"

"That'll bring whoever might be waiting straight to us," Jesina muttered with a frown. She looked at Kell. "You'll be able to disarm anything they rig?"

"If it's a bomb, should be able to. If it's a security device, probably." He made a face. "No guarantees, though."

"If we can do that, we might be able to get our prisoner out without a light fight."

"Don't bet on it," Wes muttered, "but let's do it."

Kell nodded and hoisted himself through the opening he'd just created. He could feel the heat on the metal even through the thick gloves he was still wearing. "Careful," he called softly. "The edges are hot."

"We'll give it a few minutes to cool," Jesina called up to him softly. "Unless you need one of us up there to help."

"I can manage, for now." They heard him move away, and stood in uncomfortable silence. A few moments later he returned and poked his head through the hole in the ceiling. "Yup, it's rigged. Local explosives, enough to kill anyone in the immediate vicinity, but not anyone else. I can disable it but I'm going to need some help. Who's got the steadiest hands?"

Jesina looked to Wes. "That's probably you."

He nodded, and squeezed her shoulder, then positioned himself under the opening. "Can I use those gloves?"

"Sure." Kell pulled them off his hands and dropped them down to Wes. The Rogue slipped them on and then stepped onto the welder case. A moment later he disappeared into the darkness.

Tense silence overtook Jesina, Gavin, and Inyri as they waited below. For her part, Jesina kept expecting to hear the explosion that would signal the deaths of two good men. But it didn't come.

After what seemed an eternity, Jesina heard shuffling above her head. Reflex brought her blaster up, ready to fire, but she relaxed when she saw that it was only Wes. "You guys joining us?"

She nodded and returned her blaster to its holster for a moment, and then climbed up beside him. Inyri and Gavin followed suit, and she followed Wes down the narrow space.

Gradually the crawl space grew wider and by the time they'd reached Kell, it was wide enough for her and Wes to kneel side by side. Kell was leaning back against the wall, and a few meters away Jesina saw the grate that he must have just disarmed.

As they gathered around him he said, "It goes into a room that's actually on the same level as the tunnel we came in through. My guess is that this is our prisoner's room." He looked at Jesina. "Thought you'd like to do the honors."

She nodded curtly and moved past him to the grate. It was secured by clasps on either side, but she was able to slip her fingers through the openings and release it. Very slowly she pushed it out and turned it so she could pull it back in towards her. Silently, she set it down and then peered into the darkness.

"There's a door directly across from us," she whispered. She frowned thoughtfully, then said, "Wes, come in with me. The rest of you stay up here and be ready to cover us if anyone comes in.

Then she switched her comlink to the lowest setting. "Rogue six, come in. This is seven."

"Read you, seven," Hobbie's voice came back. "Are you ready?"

"We haven't encountered anyone yet and we're at what we think is where the prisoner is. If we get lucky, we won't run into anyone, so don't take anyone out until you get the signal from me."

"Read you. Six out."

"Seven out." She paused for a second to gather her bearings. "Let's go."

She crept past where she'd placed the grate and swung her legs over the side. Eyeing the distance below she dropped – almost soundlessly – to the floor. She moved to the side, staying pressed against the wall, and heard Wes land with a soft thud beside her.

"Take a look around," Jesina whispered. She watched him pull his goggles over his eyes, and she did the same.

A moment later she heard Wes whisper, "Over there." He pointed toward the corner and she nodded. Casting one last glance around the room, she made her way in that direction.

As she moved away from him, Wes drew his blaster to cover her. He knew that if the figure he'd seen was an Imperial instead of the prisoner they thought he was, Jesina could be dead before he even knew what was happening. But the familiar weight of his modified blaster was a comfort to him.

She knelt beside the person slumped in the corner, then jerked around, eyes wide.


	13. Under Fire

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 13: Under Fire

---------------

"Wes!" Jesina whispered fiercely. "It's Corran Horn!"

Wes didn't have time to show his shock. Just as she spoke, the door Jesina had mentioned earlier was flung open and light flooded the room.

Wes yanked the goggles off his head and tossed them aside. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jesina do the same. Then he dove to the opposite side of the room and came up firing.

His first shot took the first man in the chest; his second, the second. By the time the third man came in, they'd gotten smarter – he used the body of one of the dead men as a shield. It was cumbersome, but effective – especially since Wes, Jesina, and Corran – if he even was Corran – had nothing to hide behind.

In the midst of the frantic fire, Wes switched his comlink on. "We are under fire!" he yelled into it. "Repeat, we are under fire!"

"We're coming in," Hobbie returned. "Out."

Wes opened his mouth to shout across to Jesina, but his words changed to a cry of pain.

He'd known it was coming – without anything to shield himself with, the sheer volume of shots coming from the doorway practically guaranteed that he'd be hit. But, despite this being far from the first time he'd been shot, he had been unable to prepare himself for the pain.

The bolt caught him in the stomach, slamming him backward into the wall. He somehow remained conscious as he collapsed to the floor and continued to shoot for a few moments more, though he could hardly see through the blinding pain. Then he heard the explosion, and darkness claimed him almost instantly.

From his perch inside the crawlspace, Gavin watched Wes fall. He'd begun firing as soon as the door had opened, but now he left the relative safety of the small tunnel and dropped to the floor. Gavin heard a blaster fire above his head and added his own fire to the melee. Then the opposite wall exploded and he was thrown backward.

He hit his head hard but, thankfully, not hard enough to make him lose consciousness. He struggled to get into a standing position to no avail, his right knee giving out on him, and heard someone land beside him. Because the person was light on their feet, he guessed it was Inyri. He couldn't see to confirm his guess because of all the dust still in the air.

Inyri landed beside Gavin in a crouch, Kell right behind her. Cautiously, she shone her light in the direction of the door. As the dust cleared she could see bodies on the floor, but no one was standing where the doorway had been. Slowly, she swept the beam over the rest of the room, and then thumbed her comlink.

"Rogue Six, come in. This is Eleven."

"Read you, Eleven. We're on our way in, but we're under heavy fire."

"So are we. At least, we were. Did you catch that explosion?"

"Heard it, didn't see it," Hobbie replied. "You?"

"Got hit by it."

"What's your status?"

"Rogue five is down, Wraith five and I are all right. I don't know—"

She was interrupted by Jesina. "Give me that, Captain. Mine was damaged in the blast." Inyri handed it to her. "Go see how Wes is." The Rogue nodded and turned away.

"Hobbie, it's Jes," she said, dispensing with their designations. "Wes is down; I don't know how bad. Gavin and I will survive, and the prisoner is in rough shape, but he'll make it, too." She paused. "That is, provided someone gets us out of her."

"Uh, yeah, about that—"

She cursed Hobbie's inability to deliver bad news. "Spit it out, major."

"I haven't been able to raise Slane or the others. Don't know if they're going to be here or—" The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a yell from nearby and then a curse from Hobbie.

"Jes, I'm kind of busy. Just do your best to get to us, and we'll try to get to you. Six out."

Jesina swore as she pocketed Inyri's comlink. "We're on our own, boys and girls. Kell, you're okay?" He nodded. "Good, carry Wes. Gavin, can you manage Corran?"

He stared at her blankly, finally asking, "Did you hit your head, Colonel?"

She just shook her head. "See for yourself. I don't know how, but the prisoner is Horn."

Giving her one last dubious look, Gavin headed over to the corner where the unconscious man lay. "Sithspit! It is him!"

"Told you," Jesina muttered, shoving a new power pack into her blaster. "Inyri and I will go first; we'll clear the way for you." Jesina turned to the other woman. "Shoot anything that shoots at us."

"That's what I usually do, ma'am," Inyri replied, checking her own blaster. Then she looked up at Jesina. "I'm your wing, Colonel," she said, forcing a smile.

Nodding, Jesina headed toward what had been the doorway, and heard the others following behind. Again she praised the training Wedge had given these people. Inyri stayed close enough to her to cover her, but far enough back that they both had full range of motion. She moved when Jesina moved, and seemed to know by instinct when Jesina was going to stop.

By the time they reached the main entrance to the building – without encountering anyone at all – Jesina had grown convinced that this whole thing had been a very elaborate trap. They waited silently just inside the entrance, listening intently for any sound, but heard nothing.

Just as she was switching on Inyri's comlink to ask Hobbie where he and his team were, the silence was shattered by blaster fire. And then Jesina heard a most welcome sound – the roar of engines. Their air support had arrived, probably called in by Hobbie.

The x-wings wouldn't get them to safety, but they would help keep them alive long enough for Slane and her team to reach them. Provided it wasn't already too late for Wes.

Hastily, she flipped the switch on her belt. It was essentially a locator beacon that would tell Wedge and the others where they were, so the pilots would know not to fire in their general area. It would also serve to tell the ground team where, exactly, they were.

She motioned urgently for her team to fall back and take advantage of what little cover the building offered. She dropped to her knees behind a stack of durasteel crates and was joined by Gavin with Corran in his arms. She saw Inyri and Kell, with a still-unconscious Wes, doing the same across the walk. They were hidden by a speeder.

Jesina met Kell's eyes and they both looked at the speeder at the same time. "Go!" she yelled. "Get them out of here!" She shifted her gaze to Gavin. "Go with him. Get Wes and Horn out of here. Tell Forge to move over here. We'll cover you as you take off."

"Where do you want us to go?"

"Back to the warehouse. If that's not safe..." she shrugged. "The two of you use your best judgment. And keep in contact."

Gavin saluted quickly and adjusted the way he was holding Corran before running across the open space to where Inyri, Kell, and Wes were. Jesina watched him pause to speak briefly to Inyri, who nodded curtly and crossed over to where Jesina still knelt. Dropping down beside her, Inyri asked, "Where are they going?"

"Somewhere relatively safe," Jesina replied. "I hope," she added softly, as three things happened at once. The speeder Kell had been fighting with came to life as another pulled up beside it. At the same time, the door that they'd come out of slid open, allowing more enemy soldiers – this time stormtroopers in full armor – to join the fight.

Jesina waved wildly at Kell and Gavin as Inyri turned her blasters on the newcomers. "Get out of here!" they yelled in unison, as one Imperial and then another fell to Inyri's lethal aim.

Deciding that Inyri had the door covered and hoping that this wouldn't end the way the scene inside had, Jesina turned her attention to the speeder that had pulled up. She raised her arm to fire but now that Kell and the first speeder were out of the way, she had a clear view of who was in it: Runt Ekwesh, a member of Slane's ground team. She gave him a quick wave to let him know she'd recognized him, and then returned her attention to the door. "Let's finish these guys and get out of here."

Inyri nodded as she fired at the next stormtrooper to come through the doorway. Jesina was again impressed by the young woman's concentration and focus.

Jesina looked quickly into the building and realized that if they hung around until they'd taken out all of these guys, they'd never leave. "On three," Jesina said, "Run for the speeder. And keep firing."

"Yes, Ma'am," Inyri stayed crouched low, but repositioned herself so that she was on her feet and ready to run, rather than on one knee. She kept shooting, as did Jesina.

I'll cover you," Jesina went on. "Then you cover me. One, two, three." Continuing to fire at the still-coming stormtroopers, Jesina watched Inyri begin to run.

Then she watched her fall, as a blaster bolt caught her in the thigh. Runt saw, too, and Jesina saw him preparing to go after the wounded Rogue. Taking a gamble, Jesina moved so she was no longer hidden, hoping to draw their fire away from Runt and Inyri.

As soon as Runt had Inyri in the speeder, Jesina made a run for it as Runt tried to cover her. Seconds before she reached the speeder, she felt a searing pain in her arm. Mentally, though, she pushed it aside, hauling herself into the passenger seat of the speeder.

As Runt sped away, Jesina took advantage of the moment of relative safety to look up to the sky. The fighters were no longer directly overhead, but she saw an explosion not far away. Still watching, she tore off part of her sleeve and wrapped it as best she could around her arm, all the while admonishing herself for losing track of the fight. She hadn't noticed when the fighters had left the immediate vicinity, she had no idea where Hobbie's team had ended up, and she had no idea where Gavin and Kell were right now. She also didn't know where the rest of Slane's team was, but she wasn't overly concerned about that – they'd been running their own show.

She reached over to get Runt's attention. "Where are we going?"

"To a safe house," the Wraith replied. "How is the Captain?"

"I'll live," Inyri answered from the back seat. Turning, Jesina saw that the woman had done the same to her leg that she herself had done with her arm. "Where are Kell and Gavin?"

"Heading for the warehouse in the complex," Jesina replied. "Runt, we have to—"

"They are safe. Kirney is meeting them there right now. It is fine, Colonel."


	14. Recovery

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 14: Recovery

---------------

Jesina pressed a hand against the bacta patch on her bicep and looked around the room. The "safe house" was, like their staging area, a small warehouse. The difference was that this place was outfitted with extensive medical supplies that were now being put to good use.

The mission had had one fatality, in the form of Elassar Targon. As she had learned upon reaching the safe house, Elassar had been in the speeder with Runt and Shalla Nelprin, until he'd been hit. He'd fallen from the speeder and Shalla had gone after him. But he'd been dead before she got to him, and the approach of Imperials had forced her to flee.

Other than that, there were several injuries. There were those that her team had sustained – herself and Inyri, and Wes and Corran, who were both in need of more advanced medical care than they could get here – and Hobbie's team had taken a few hits. Tyria had an injured shoulder, and Face had a broken ankle. He was lucky, though. He'd broken his ankle in a nasty fall that could have killed him.

The other four members of the ground team were in one piece, and Jesina had no idea of the status of the air team.

She returned to the center of the room and sat, cross-legged, beside the blanket on which Wes now lay, his body warm from fever. "How do we get out of here?"

"I've contacted Elscol Loro. She says she has a way, which is good, because I have no idea," Face replied. "She'll be here within the hour, presumably with help."

She'd better," Jesina said softly, eyes locked on Wes. "I don't know how much time we have."

---------------

"One of the planetary officials is working with us," Elscol told Face and Jesina. "He doesn't want to see the Imperials take over Zhar. He'll help me get you out aboard my ship. I can't take all of you, though. I can manage five, six at the most. In an emergency, I could take more, but that's a risk I'd rather not take."

"Take everyone who's injured," Hobbie said from behind Jesina. "Wes, Corran, Tyria, Inyri, and the two of you. The rest of us can stay here until either we have a way out or until we have something else to do, like work with you."

"All right, I can do that. Excuse me for a moment." She walked away and spoke on her comlink, returning momentarily. "He'll be waiting for us. I'll need a couple others to come and help get Horn and Janson aboard."

Jesina looked up at Hobbie. "Tell Gavin and Tainer that they're coming with us. We'll take two speeders, and they can drive there and back." She turned back to Elscol. "We leaving now?"

"Now," Elscol confirmed. She shifted her attention to Hobbie as he returned with Gavin and Kell in tow. "You're going to be in charge down here while she's gone?" When he nodded she continued, "I'll be in touch as soon as I get back. Stay here and lay low."

"Will do." He took a deep breath. "Good luck. Tell Wedge we'll be all right here."

"I know you will," Elscol said softly. She glanced uneasily at Jesina and then turned away.

---------------

They made it to hyperspace without incident and for that Jesina was eternally grateful. Incidents meant delays, and they couldn't afford delays. Delays meant keeping Wes and Corran from getting medical care. Delays meant keeping Elscol away from where she needed to be – organizing on Zhar. Delays meant that the remaining Rogues and Wraiths stayed on-planet longer than they needed to be – and longer than was healthy for them. Delays meant it was that much longer until she could tear Cracken limb from limb for playing games with them once again.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and wandered into the main section of the freighter. There she found Tyria, Face, Inyri, and Elscol. "How long until we rendezvous with the task force?"

"About twenty minutes," Elscol replied. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm all right." Jesina sat down so that she was facing Tyria and Face. "How are you two?"

Face shrugged. "It never gets easier to lose someone."

"Consider that a good thing," Jesina said softly. "The moment it does, it's time to leave the business." She looked away but then returned her attention to him. "Why didn't we have a way off-planet?"

"We did," Face said. "It fell through." His eyes narrowed. "Someone didn't want any of us to get off Zhar alive."

"Cracken?" Jesina asked.

Elscol shook her head. "He knew that something might happen. He had Winter and Iella ask me to help you out if anything went wrong."

Jesina shook her head, frustrated. "This is why I left Intel, you know."

"This is why I left the Alliance," Elscol countered. Then she shrugged and changed the subject. "How are Janson and Horn?"

"Corran's okay. Looks to me like he was drugged and beaten, for the most part. It's Wes I'm worried about. His fever is still up."

Inyri reached over and placed a hand lightly on Jesina's knee. "He'll be all right. Janson may be a jerk sometimes, but he's one of the strongest people I've ever known."

"I know," Jesina said, as Elscol rose to head to the cockpit. "But sometimes being strong isn't enough." She, too, rose and followed Elscol to the cockpit.

The woman didn't look up from the instrument panel. "Stop blaming yourself. Tainer and Forge told me everything that happened down there. You did everything you could to keep your people alive and in one piece. And you did a pretty good job of it. Injuries happen. The only loss wasn't related to you at all. Wes is going to be all right."

"I lost track of the fight," Jesina said simply, dropping into the copilot's chair.

"No. You relied on well-trained military and intelligence personnel to do their jobs. You ran the show until things went bad, and then you focused on keeping yourself and those directly under your command alive. Forge, Janson, Tainer, Darklighter – they were your responsibility. Hobbie was more than capable of taking care of his people. The same for Slane and Wedge. You didn't lose track. You counted on other people to do their jobs and you did yours." She finally turned to face Jesina. "Trust me. If I thought you screwed up, I'd tell you. Ask Horn." Then she shrugged. "But if you don't believe me, wait and talk to Wedge. You know he'll tell you if you messed up."

Elscol stopped talking and shifted her attention to the instrument panel. "Twenty seconds to reversion."

---------------

Wedge stood in the doorway and watched Jesina. She was sitting beside Wes' bed, where she had been from the moment he came out of the bacta tank. She'd fallen asleep about half an hour ago, and he was glad.

Before she'd left, Elscol had told him about Jesina's concerns over her actions on Zhar. After she'd gone, he'd spoken to Inyri, who'd told him in as much detail as she could remember, everything that had happened. Based on what they'd said, he was convinced she'd done everything right. Watching her now, he strongly suspected that her guilt was tied directly to one particular person's injury.

A movement from the bed caught Wedges attention as Wes, finally awake for the first time since the fight on Zhar, waved him over. "Is she okay?" he asked hoarsely.

"She's been worrying about you for the last fifteen hours or so. She's exhausted."

"Worrying? Why?" Wes looked confused. "What happened?

"You were shot, and then cracked your head in an explosion." Wedge spoke softly, not wanting to wake Jesina.

His effort was to no avail. She jerked her head up and released Wes' hand. "You're awake!"

"So it would seem. How you doing?"

"Worried about you. It was pretty close for a while.

Wes rolled his eyes and tried to shrug it off. "You know me. It takes a lot to get me down."

Jesina smirked. "Yeah, well, they threw a lot at you. If Elscol hadn't been around, we wouldn't have gotten here in time."

"Speaking of here, where are we?"

"On the medical frigate, near Tatooine."

"So we all got out okay, then?"

"For the most part," Jesina replied. "Injuries, and Elassar Targon was killed." She saw a look or remorse cross his face and was reminded that he'd served with the Wraiths at one time. "We got Horn out, though, and they tell us he's doing just fine.

"It really is him?" Wes asked. He remembered Jesina telling him it was Corran, right before things went to hell. "How?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Wedge answered. "He hasn't woken up yet, but he should soon. In the meantime, Cracken's arranging a way to get us all on planet. There's something big going on. Once we're all on Zhar, the rest of the task force will move into the system. We're hoping that that will discourage the Imperials from moving on the planet. If it doesn't, we'll be ready."

"Will Elscol?" Wedge nodded. "When will we all be heading for Zhar?"

"As soon as Cracken comes up with a plan," Wedge replied. "It should be within the next thirty-six hours."

"Will everyone be okay to go?" Wes asked. Then he held up a hand. "Wait. Scratch that. How many of us are up here?"

"The entire air support team, plus us, Inyri, Tyria, and Face," Jesina replied. "And Corran. Basically, everyone who was injured."

"How's everyone doing?"

"With the exception of you and Corran, everyone is fit to fly now," Wedge told him. "Face's ankle is tender, but he can manage with it. Corran won't be able to go with us, but you should be."

"I will be," Wes corrected him, but Wedge shook his head.

"No. You should be. The only way you're leaving this ship is if the med staff okays it. Not only were you badly hurt, but your body's been fighting a fever. That takes a lot out of you."

"He's right," Jesina agreed, much to Wes' chagrin. For some reason, he felt more than comfortable defying Wedge, but he didn't want to challenge her.

"Fine, I'll cooperate," Wes gave in.

Wedge watched his acquiescence in shock. "I have never, ever, gotten him to agree to anything that easily – even things he wanted to do!"

She grinned at him. "Power of women, Wedge. A beautiful – or even slightly attractive – woman can get a man to do just about anything – provided she knows how to play the game."

"And very few play the game as well as you do, Dreis," a voice said from the doorway.

Jesina looked up in surprise. "Vayl? What in the galaxy are you doing here?"

"I really don't know. I was in Mos Eisley. My first vacation in six years, and I came all the way to Tatooine to AVOID this happening. They contacted me and told me to rendezvous with the medical frigate." He shrugged. "I get the feeling something big is going down."

"Yeah, looks like it," Jesina replied, disconcerted. "Ah, Vayl, my old friends Wedge Antilles and Wes Janson. Wedge, Wes, this is Vayl Lonciez. He's, ah, my old partner."

Wedge frowned at the strange look in her eyes but nodded and reached out to shake the man's hand. "You're NRI?"

"Yeah. I was sorry to lose Jes to Starfighter Command. Can't blame you for wanting her, though. She's a great girl. And I can't blame her for going. Who would pass up the chance to fly with Wedge Antilles?"

Jesina frowned. Vayl knew the circumstances under which she'd left Intelligence, and it had nothing to do with Wedge wanting her in Rogue. Why was he acting like this?

Wedge seemed to sense that something wasn't right. "Actually, Mr. Lonciez, I need to speak to Jesina about something. If you'll excuse us..."

"Of course. Dreis, come find me when you get a chance. I'll be in the lounge trying to figure out why I'm here."

She managed a weak smile. "I'll...stop by." He nodded and disappeared, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Turning, she saw that Wedge and Wes were both staring at her. "What, exactly, was that all about?"

She opened her mouth to try to explain, but closed it again. Finally, she simply shook her head. "I really have no idea."

"Does he know why you left Intel?"

"Yes, he does. That's why I'm so confused!"

Just then there was a knock at the door. Wedge and Jesina turned to see Face stick his head in. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Jesina sighed. "Nothing important. Did you need something, Face?"

"Tell me Lonciez isn't on board with this?"

Jesina got a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Why?"

"Because I swear I just saw him.

"No...why don't you want him involved?"

Face looked uncomfortable. "Can I speak to you privately?"

She sighed. "There's no need. What's on your mind?"

He hesitated. "Since you left Intel he's...strange. He's a loose cannon, and I don't entirely trust him."

"Face, you've got to give me more than this."

"Colonel, he's obsessed with you."

She sagged against the bed, burying her face in her hands. "Tell me your joking."

"Sorry." Face paused. "He's had three partners since you left, and they all applied for transfer away from him. One left Intel altogether, though no one seems to know why."

Sensing her distress, Wes put his hand on the small of Jesina's back. "Is he dangerous?"

"I honestly don't know." Face shook his head, frustrated. "I would hope Cracken wouldn't keep him around, much less assign him to us like this, if he was, but I really don't know."

"Your professional opinion, Face," Wedge said wearily.

The Wraith looked extremely uncomfortable. "I think he could be, yes." He shrugged. "Let's just say, the sooner Cracken comes through with a way to get us to Zhar – a way that doesn't include him – the better I'll feel about this whole situation."

"Terrific," Wedge muttered. "Because we didn't already have enough to worry about." He sighed. "Jes, go with Face and tell everyone we're having a meeting in the conference room down the hall. Rogues and Wraiths, I want them all there. Pash Cracken and Iline Jesmin too. And whatever you do, do not leave her alone. For any reason."

Jesina's eyes narrowed. "Wedge," she began, but Wes cut her off.

"He's right, Jes. That guy's NRI-trained and that makes him dangerous. Do us all a favor and give us one less thing to worry about, huh?" He gave her an imploring look.

Face grinned as he saw her resolve melt. "Don't worry, sir. I won't let her out of my sight."

"Oh, really?" she countered. "Planning on following me into the women's refresher?"

"No," he replied quickly, "but I'm sure Inyri or Tyria will be more than happy to accompany you, ma'am."

She glowered. "You're a dead man, Loran."


	15. Complication

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 15: Complication

---------------

Wedge glanced around the half-empty conference room. 'Where to start?' he asked himself. 'Best to stick with honesty,' he decided.

"All right, everyone, listen up. This shouldn't take to long, as the list of things we don't know is longer than the list of what we do know."

"Good news first," Jesina said. "Wes Janson and Corran Horn are both recovering. Janson will be fit to fly within the next ten hours. Horn will take somewhat longer, as the drugs he was given were at extremely high levels in his bloodstream. He's undergoing an accelerated detoxification program and should be more or less clean within 72 hours. If everything goes as it should, he'll be able to fly again in a standard week."

"Now, down to business," Wedge picked up where she left off. "Right now we're in limbo. On the ground on Zhar, Elscol Loro's little resistance is progressing nicely. Our people down there – those Rogues and Wraiths who didn't come back – are working with her on that. The Imperials are in for a very rude awakening if they send ground forces in."

"What's to stop them from initiating a planetary bombardment?" Pash asked.

"Two things. First, doing that would endanger their entire reason for going to Zhar. Second, in case they decide it's worth the risk, that's where we come in. Or, rather, you."

"Here's how things are going to work," Jesina interjected, "based on what we know for certain right now. Within the next day an a half, we'll," she gestured around the room, "head to Zhar. Except for you two, that is." She pointed at Pash and Iline. "As soon as we contact you to let you know we're on planet, the entire task force will move into the system. It is our hope – not our expectation – that your presence will deter the Imperials from moving on the planet."

"But if and when they do attack, you'll counter their offensive. If Cracken's way of getting us to the planet involves our fighters, we'll join you. If we don't have them, though, we'll continue to work with Elscol on the ground. That's what the Wraiths will do, regardless."

"Pash and I will run the show in space if you're on the ground, right? As far as the starfighters are concerned?" Iline asked.

"Correct. I realize it's a big responsibility, and I don't want to add to the pressure, but it is absolutely essential that we not lose Zhar."

"Are we out of line to ask why?" Inyri asked.

Wedge shook his head. "I was getting to that, actually. The Imperials have reason to believe that somewhere on Zhar, most likely under the planet's surface, there is a secret lab, abandoned with the death of Palpatine, that holds the secret to a biological agent that can be used against whole worlds – or against a single person. This lab, if it even exists, may also house to plans to a weapon supposedly more powerful than the Death Star."

The room was absolutely silent, and then everyone started talking at one. It took Jesina shouting over them to get them to quiet down. "One. At. A. Time!"

"Is this lab for real?" Tyria asked.

"We don't know," Wedge answered. "We have to operate on the assumption that it is, though I certainly won't object if this turns out to be all for nothing."

"Do we know who's behind this? Who's in charge of the Empire?"

"No."

"Yes," a new voice said from the back of the room. As soon as Wedge realized it was Elscol, the knot in his stomach that had been there from the beginning got a little tighter. The only reason she would have come back was if she'd found out something that had the potential to be very dangerous.

Elscol made her way to the front. To anyone who didn't know her, she would have looked perfectly calm and collected. To Wedge, though, she looked...haunted. "I need to talk to you. Wes too. Now."

"Go," Jesina told him, easily detecting the urgency in Elscol's voice. "We can wait."

The two of them walked the short distance to Wes' room. He was sitting up in the bed, eyes fixed on a datapad in his lab, but he set it down when they came in. "What's wrong?"

"I know who's in charge in the Empire now." Two sets of eyes fixed on Elscol. "It's Hekrig."

Instantly the look in her eyes, the tone of her voice, the lack of color in her face all made sense to Wedge. Ytach Hekrig was the one Imperial officer who'd gotten the best of Rogue Squadron and was still alive to talk about it.

They'd gone up against him years before, before even the reorganization of the Squadron. He'd handed them their worst defeat and he'd been a 22-year-old Captain.

Elscol hadn't been with them then, but she'd heard plenty about it. She knew just how badly they'd been beaten, and she knew how he'd done it.

"How do you know?"

"Because he just destroyed one of the cells on Zhar. There are already plenty of Imperial troops on the ground. "They went into one of our safe houses and killed everyone except for one person, who was sent back to me with a message. It's Hekrig, and he knows what we're doing." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have left the planet but I didn't want to risk contacting you and having it intercepted. He may know about me, but I don't think he knows about you. He thinks that I'm responsible for the raid and rescue. I didn't want to give you away. I left Hobbie in charge. He's, ah, he's not too happy."

Wedge and Wes had been listening in silence. "Yeah, I bet he's not happy," Wes muttered. "Neither am I." He shook his head. "I really thought we'd seen the last of him."

"Apparently not," Elscol said tightly. "Wedge, this has just gotten a lot bigger. Not only do I really not like the idea of going up against Hekrig, but now I'm convinced that this lab is real."

"Why?" Wes asked.

"Because Hekrig is taking a big risk by going after Zhar. Not only is the maneuver itself risky, but he's revealed himself. He wouldn't do it just based on a legend. He's got to have something hard."

"What I want to know is, where has he been, and why did he come back now?"

"My guess," Elscol began, "is that he got a hold of something that assured him that the lab actually exists." She met his eyes. What are we going to do?"

"We're going back in there, telling them what we know so that everyone knows what we're going up against. And then Jesina's getting in touch with Cracken and telling him everything you just told us. If he doesn't have a plan for us to get to Zhar, I'm not waiting for him. Rogue Squadron will be paying the planetary governor a diplomatic visit."

---------------

"Antilles will be paying a diplomatic visit to Alul Kesarq, the planetary governor of Zhar. He'll be escorted by Rogue Squadron, in the form of those members of Rogue and Wraith Squadrons who are currently aboard ship with you," General Cracken told Jesina before she could say a word about Hekrig.

"Perfect, because Wedge was planning on doing exactly that if you hadn't come up with anything yet. We've, ah, had a bit of a complication."

The Intelligence Director arched an eyebrow. "What kind of complication?"

"We know who's commanding the Imperial forces. And he knows what Elscol Loro is up to."

Cracken looked thoughtful, but not overly concerned. "Who is it?"

"Ytach Hekrig."

Now he looked concerned. "This changes things considerably." He glanced at something to his left and then returned his attention to Jesina. I'll contact you again within two hours. Do nothing before then." He terminated the communication before Jesina could even acknowledge the order.

Feeling not a little confused, Jesina headed to the pilot's lounge where she knew she'd find Wedge. Lost in thought, she didn't notice the man blocking her path until she'd walked right into him. When she looked, she instantly regretted having ducked away from Face when he wasn't looking.

Vayl caught her arm as she hastily stepped back in an attempt to regain her balance. "I waited for you for over an hour."

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't make it, but a few things have come up. I am, after all, XO to the man in command of this task force and things are happening very quickly for us, even though it doesn't seem that way. Speaking of which, I need to find him now. There's something I need to—" She broke off when she heard Face's voice.

"Dreis! Wedge is looking for you!" the Wraith called. "He seems pretty mad about something." As he got closer, Face acknowledged Vayl. "Lonciez."

"Loran," Vayl said returning his nod with a dark look. He turned back to Jesina. "I guess I'll find you later." She nodded silently as Face led her away.

Once they were around a corner and out of Vayl's hearing distance, Face stopped and pulled her aside. "I don't care if you do outrank me. Don't ever do that again!"

"I won't," she conceded instantly.

"Do you realize what...what did you say?"

"I said I wouldn't do it again," she said shakily. "Don't worry. If I disappear on you again, it wasn't by choice." She sighed. "Is Wedge actually angry?"

"Yeah. At me, because I lost you."

"You could have commed me."

"Not if you don't have it on."

"It is on."

"Well, you didn't answer."

"When did you comm me?"

"About thirty seconds before I found you."

She frowned as she reached into the pocket of her flight suit. "Maybe it's broken." Then her frown deepened.

Face noticed. "What's wrong?"

She pulled her hand from her pocket and he thought it was empty until she held up a piece of flimsy. As she read it, her face paled slightly. Wordlessly, she handed it to Face. On it was handwritten, "I'll only wait so long."

Face's eyes narrowed. "Let's go talk to Wedge, huh?"

"Yeah, let's," she echoed distractedly.

She followed him to Wes' room – not his room in the medical center, but his actual quarters. She realized just how much better he was feeling when he was on his feet before Wedge was to yell at her for taking off. "Of all the stupid stunts," he began, but Face cut him off.

"Drop it, Janson. She's learned her lesson." He told them about her run-in with Vayl and the missing comlink, and then handed over the note.

Janson's eyes narrowed. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I'm all right.

"You think it's from Lonciez?" Wedge asked.

"Had to be. He's the only one I've been that close too." She shook her head. "Don't worry about it, though. With luck, we'll be off this ship within ten hours, and I won't have to deal with him anymore." She told them what Cracken had said.

"What do you think he's gonna do?"

"What I would do," she replied. "Make our presence in the system very visible and very official. Make sure people know we're there to prevent the Imperials from taking over the planet and razing it. No more games, no more behind the scenes, no more hiding. Let Hekrig know he's not going to take Zhar without a fight. I'd also send in people to look for that lab – to find it before his people do."

"Now, that makes sense," Face said. "Fifty credits says he won't do it."

"You got yourself a bet," Wes replied. "Jes says he will."

Wedge agreed with Wes. "Don't sell him short, Face. Irritating as he is, Cracken's not a stupid man." He sighed and stood. "I'm heading to my quarters. Someone go with her to get a new comlink, and see if they can do anything about the old one."


	16. A Genius Tactician

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 16: A Genius Tactician

---------------

"All right," Wedge began, addressing the pilots gathered in one of _Lusankya_'s larger briefing rooms. The people there were Rogues and Wraiths, as well as command staff from every squadron in the task force, and members of the command of all three capital ships. "This is what's going to happen. Let me get through this and then I'll answer any questions."

"We've recently learned the identity of the Admiral who has taken control of Imperial forces. We've also learned that the independent operations being carried out on the planet have been compromised. Because of all this, we're taking a more...direct approach."

"In approximately three hours, the entire task force will head to Zhar. Once we arrive, those members of Rogue and Wraith Squadrons who are up here will head down to the planet, except for Corran Horn, who is still recovering. Those that remain here should expect to be confronted by Imperial forces – at the minimum an ImpStar Deuce and a Corellian Heavy Cruiser."

"You are not – and I can't stress this enough – not to engage them except to counter their offensive. Do not go on the offensive." He paused and glanced at the notes he'd made during his lengthy conversation with General Cracken. "You should also expect the arrival of an Intelligence team who are going to proceed to the planet's surface to search for the lab that the Imps are trying to find. They will rendezvous – briefly – with _Lusankya_ before heading to Zhar to meet up with NRI agents who are apparently already on planet." The time he'd spent talking to Cracken had given him even more to fuel to the fire that was going to ignite when he finally got to see the good General face-to-face.

"Now for how things are going to go up here. As before, Majors Cracken and Jesmin are going to be in command of the starfighters. Captain Ackrand will again assume command of the task force in my absence, although he may still receive orders from myself, my wife Iella, who is the NRI agent on the ground, General Cracken himself, or Colonel Dreis."

"They are attempting to send additional New Republic military forces to Zhar to help deal with the pending threat from the Imperials, but we do not know if they will arrive in time, and are operating under the assumption that they will not. It may be necessary to retreat, especially if Admiral Hekrig has additional forces waiting. I'll discuss with Captain Ackrand what to do in that situation, but I want to make two things very clear to everyone right now. One is that retreat is to be a LAST resort. The second is that, should circumstances become that dire, no one is to jeopardize themselves or the task force by waiting for Rogue Squadron, Wraith Squadron, or the intelligence team."

He stopped speaking, and drew a deep breath. "Any questions?"

Pash Cracken raised a hand. "What's the Admiral's name?"

The expression on his face told Wedge that Pash had heard the name and recognized it, and was looking for confirmation. Wedge decided to give it to him. Now that he knew what they were doing, he felt comfortable telling everyone just what they were up against. He'd elected not to say much in their earlier, smaller meeting, but now he felt able to tell them about Hekrig.

"His name is Ytach Hekrig. He was a Captain in the Imperial Navy back around the time of Hoth. He was very young then, which spoke to his abilities.

Jesina, who'd stood back and watched through most of the briefing, stepped forward and spoke. "All of our information indicates that Hekrig played it smart after Endor, which is fitting, because he's a genius tactician. He retreated from the power vacuum that the Emperor's death created, deciding instead to wait it out and move in once all the other pretenders had worn each other down. Now he's back, he's very smart, and he's very dangerous." She stopped speaking before finishing her thoughts. What she didn't say was how personal this fight was about to get – for Wedge, Wes, and Hobbie, at least.

As Jesina finished speaking, Wedge saw Pash nod to himself, and saw a similar reaction from Iline. He wasn't at all surprised at the recognition in either of them. Pash was, after all, the son of the Director of New Republic Intelligence, and Iline had been with the Alliance since before the Rogues' first run-in with Hekrig.

He shook himself to keep from going down that road in his mind. There would be time for that later. Now he needed to wrap up this briefing and prepare to go to Zhar.

---------------

An hour before the task force's departure from Tatooine, Wedge was sitting in his quarters with Wes and Jesina. "How do you know so much about Hekrig?" he asked Jesina.

"He was one of my first long-term assignments after I went over to Intel. When he kind of dropped off the map after Endor, Cracken wanted to know what he was up to. When it looked like he wasn't going to be a problem, he pulled me off it. That was at least six years ago, probably more." She paused. "Did you know that the details of your battle with him are classified at a higher level than even I had access to? Cracken would never tell me what happened. I don't even know what your losses were."

"Too high," Wes said. "We lost eight pilots, eleven ships. Tycho was the only one who made it through with his completely intact." He paused. I nearly died. Hobbie did too."

"It was the squadron's worst defeat. He knew where we were going to be, and came after us with a Star Destroyer and two Vics. He knew what he was doing, and he wanted to destroy us." Wedge frowned. "Do you know why it's classified?"

She shook her head. "I asked him about 300 times and always got the same answer: it's classified." Jesina shrugged. "My only guess is that he didn't want people to realize just how dangerous Hekrig could be." She shook her head again. "That's only a guess, though, and not a very good one."

"Well, it doesn't really matter," Wedge replied. "I just wonder why no one ever told us it was classified."

"They probably figured you weren't going to talk about it anyway." She sighed and changed the subject. "I really don't like this."

"What? Facing off against Hekrig?"

"No. Well, I don't like the idea of that, either. But it's more all the last-minute changes. It's on thing to alter a plan as complications arise when it's already being set in motion. But it's entirely another to keep changing things before anything's even really started." She hesitated and stared at her hands, toying with her new comlink. "I'm having the dreams again," she said finally.

The other two Rogues exchanged an uneasy glance. Jesina wasn't Force-sensitive, but she had strange dreams. They weren't of anything specific – at least, nothing specific that she could remember after she woke up. But they always left her in a cold sweat with a feeling of dread she couldn't shake.

"Well," Wedge said after a long moment, "We'll just have to be very careful."

"Wedge," she began, a strange look on her face, "I really don't think it's us. It's strange, but I have this terrible feeling that we aren't the only ones who have Hekrig's attention right now." She sighed. "Something's very, very wrong."

"Does Cracken know about your dreams?"

"He knows I have them, and that they're usually dead on. I haven't mentioned these to him."

"Well, do it, before we jump into—"

His sentence was interrupted by a beep from his comlink. "Antilles."

"Sir, you have a communication incoming from Coruscant," said the ship's primary communications officer.

"Route it to my quarters," he replied, as Wes and Jesina exchanged apprehensive looks. He stood up and walked over to the wall comm unit.

As he activated it, Leia's face appeared. "Wedge! Thank the Force!"

"What's wrong, Leia?" he asked as Wes and Jesina crowded in behind him.

"Your reinforcements are going to be delayed. They're being diverted to Coruscant."

"What? Why?"

"Because there's a Super Star Destroyer, and ImpStar Deuce, a standard Destroyer, and two Vics sitting right outside our shields."

Jesina found Wes hand and squeezed tightly. "Tell me this isn't happening," she murmured. Wes silently slipped an arm around her shoulders and smiled tightly as she leaned into his embrace.

"How are you holding up?" Wedge asked Leia, actually afraid of what her answer might be.

She shook her head, a confused expression on her face. "We're actually doing just fine. We're keeping shields up, and they aren't doing anything."

"He's playing with you," Jesina said suddenly, straightening up and pulling away from Wes. "He's not going to do anything. He's showing his strength, saying "I'm here, this is what I have, and I'm not afraid of you.' He'll stay there for a while and then leave. As long as you keep your shields up, divert incoming ships, and don't engage them, you may get off without shots being fired – this time anyway. If you engage them, though, expect a real fight. He'll fight – and fight hard – until the moment if even looks like the battle might be turning against him. Then he'll take off, and you won't be able to stop him."

Leia nodded slowly, taking in the former NRI officer's words. "That's essentially what General Cracken said, but Ackbar and Bel Iblis decided to recall our forces anyway." She sighed heavily and Wedge was struck by how tired she looked. "You really don't think they'll be a problem?"

All three shook their heads at once. "As long as you don't engage them, they shouldn't be – not this early on," Wes said. Having actually gone up against Hekrig, he had to agree with Jesina's assessment of the situation. "We need to extra help more than you do."

"That's also what Cracken said." Leia gave them an apologetic look. "I'll do my best to get you some additional assistance as soon as possible."

"You can try," Wedge said, "but unless you find someone close to this area, it won't be soon enough."

---------------

Jesina stared out at the white tunnel of hyperspace. There were so many things going through her head right now, and she didn't know where to begin to sort them out.

First, there was Tycho. Part of her knew she had done all she could for her oldest friend. But part of her felt as if she should have been able to do more – as if, at the very least, she should have been able to foresee how he was going to handle shooting down the man that he – that they all – believed was Corran Horn.

Then, of course, there was the situation at hand. They all – all being herself, Wedge, Wes, and, she guessed, Hobbie, though she hadn't had a chance to speak to him about it – knew that Hekrig would bring a larger force than they had against Zhar. She fully expected that the task force would be forced to retreat, leaving them stranded on Zhar. And while she knew that Elscol would organize her people well, she had no illusions about their changes against Hekrig's forces. She wished desperately that Tycho and Horn were going to be coming along for this ride. Most people would say that, in a battle of this scale, two men wouldn't make much difference. But those two had proven that wrong time and again.

Jesina sighed audibly and blew her hair out of her face. It wasn't just the individual skills of the two men that the squadron was missing now. They'd all flown together for so long that removing any one of the squadron's core members – from Wedge and Tycho down to Myn and Inyri – threatened the unit's solidarity and cohesiveness. A huge part of what made Rogue Squadron as effective as it was was how well they all knew each other and how much they trusted each other. Taking away one of the members shook the squadron's foundations.

Thinking about all of that brought her mind to Cracken. She had grown more and more convinced that nothing that had happened had surprised the intelligence man. Right now she'd bet a year's salary that he'd known from the beginning – from when Tycho shot down the impostor – that it was Corran. He'd definitely known who the prisoner was from the time he'd sent them after the mystery prisoner. She wasn't sure that Cracken had known that Hekrig was behind everything, but she figured that if he hadn't known for sure, he wasn't surprised by the news, either.

And, he'd managed to complicate things for them – intentionally or otherwise – by assigning Vayl Lonciez to this project. She hadn't seen Vayl since the run-in that Face had so thankfully interrupted. For some reason, though, instead of putting her mind at ease, it made her more uncomfortable about his presence on the ship. Not that she had a reason to be nervous about anything. The only time she was alone was in her quarters, like now, and Wedge, Wes, and Face were being very protective of her.

That train of thought brought her mind to the last thing – person, really – that was plaguing her mind. Wes. They'd been friends for so long but lately things had been different between them; not strained, really, just different. She was attributing it to his kiss on Zhar, but she wasn't sure if she should be. Other than the protectiveness he'd been showing toward her – which wasn't new, really, just more extreme – he wasn't following up on it. And she wasn't sure she wanted him to.

The sound of the door buzzer brought her out of her thoughts. She answered it to find Face standing outside. "Wedge wants everyone in their fighters and ready to go before we drop out of hyperspace."

She opened her mouth to respond but stopped short as she saw a flash of light, and then watched Face collapse.


	17. Never Saw Him Coming

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 17: Never Saw Him Coming

---------------

"Try his comlink one more time," Wedge said, his voice more urgent than the last time he'd made the request of Wes – five minutes before.

"Wedge, I've tried Face six times and Jes five. He's not going to answer this time."

Wedge nodded and sighed. "I know. But I was hoping, anyway." He shook his head, shoulders slumped, but abruptly straightened. "Pull everyone out of their fighters. Send them out, paired up, to look for any sign of Face, Jesina, or Lonciez."

Wes nodded. "Where you going?"

"To the bridge," Wedge replied over his shoulder as he walked away. "I'm going to have them send a message to the planet that we're going to be delayed. I'll comm you in a few minutes."

As Wedge left the hangar, Wes switched to the squadron-wide frequency. "Launch is postponed. Everybody out. Come on, people, move it. Now!" His tone grew more earnest with every word, as his concern for Jesina increased with every moment.

As they gathered around him over the course of the next few minutes, he relayed Wedge's instructions. "Ooryl and Inyri, start on the top deck and work down. Tyria, Dia, start on the bottom deck and work up. Ensa and Duryll, start a third of the way up and work up. Stay in constant communication. The second anything happens, LET US KNOW. IMMEDIATELY. The same goes if you find any sign of Jesina, Face, or Vayl Lonciez. If you see them, pursue them only so far as you need to in order to keep them in sight. We're operating under the assumption that Lonciez is responsible for whatever's happened. Do not engage him, but defend yourselves if he initiates. And whatever you do, DO NOT endanger Loran or Dreis." He paused momentarily. "Any questions?"

"Who do we communicate with? You or Wedge?"

"Me, until further notice. Anything else? No? Dismissed."

---------------

"Wes? Come in, Janson," Inyri's voice came over his comlink.

"I'm here, Forge. What do you have?"

"We found Face. He was lying unconscious outside Jesina's quarters. He's starting to come around."

Wes started to jog toward the turbolift. "Can you get him to the med center?"

"Ooryl's already picked him up. We'll meet you there?"

He nodded, and then remembered that she couldn't see him. "Yeah. I'll comm Wedge," he told her as he stepped into the lift. "Out."

"Out."

Before Wes even had a chance to comm Wedge, he heard his CO's voice. "You have anything?"

"No sign of Jes or Lonciez. But Inyri and Ooryl found Face. He was on the floor outside Jes' quarters."

"Alive?"

"Yes."

"How bad off is he?"

"I don't know. They're taking him to the med center now. I'm heading there."

"Comm everyone and tell them we've found Face, and we'll let them know when we know something. I'll meet you in the med center. Out."

"Out."

Wes reached the med center about ten seconds before Wedge did and they walked in together. Face was sitting up on a cot sipping a cup of what Wes guessed was medicinal water. His face was pale and he seemed to be having a little trouble focusing.

"How you doing, Loran?" Wes asked him. He just shook his head.

"He was stunned," the doctor told them. "Standard blaster on a maximum setting. Whoever it was wanted to make sure he wasn't getting up anytime soon."

"Lonciez?" Wedge asked, directing the question at Face, who nodded.

"I think so, anyway. Didn't actually see him."

"What happened?"

"I got to the Colonel's quarters and she opened the door. I told her..." he shook his head. "I told her you wanted everyone in the fighters. Before...before she even said anything, I heard a noise, and then I hit the ground." He blinked furiously. His head was swimming. "I don't know what happened after that."

"Great," Wedge muttered. "We know nothing."

"I'm sorry, Wedge," Face said softly. "I never saw him coming."

"It's not your fault," Wedge told him. "The person I'm going to murder is Cracken, not you."

"I'm going to go look for her," Wes said. His voice was soft, but firm enough that Wedge knew arguing with him wouldn't work.

"Go. But keep your comlink on and keep in contact constantly."

"Will do." Wes started to leave but stopped and turned around. "You two, go to engineering and see if they can tell you anything about places that people could hide for a while on board."

Inyri looked at him blankly. "Wes, this is a Super Star Destroyer."

"I know. There are a million places to hide. I know that. But see if engineering can help you narrow it down. If you come up with anything, comm me to let me know and meet me somewhere. I don't want Lonciez to tap into our frequency." Then he left.

"Inyri," Wedge said after he was gone, "You go to engineering." He glanced at the Gand findsman. "Ooryl, you go with him. Tell him its my orders and if he doesn't like it he won't be looking for her at all."

Inyri hesitated. "Is he all right?"

Wedge shrugged. "I think there's a thing with them or something. He'll be okay. As long as we find her."

---------------

Wes heard his comlink buzz, startling him out of his thoughts. "Janson."

"Wes, I've got something for you." She paused. "Where are you?"

"Just finished checking through the squadron's quarters," he replied. He'd gotten an override code that allowed him into every living quarters on the ship.

"I'll meet you in mine. Be there in a few minutes." She cut the transmission before he could even acknowledge.

Wes paced back and forth across the floor of Inyri's room, not stopping even for a second when Ooryl protested, "Ooryl thinks you will soon be walking on the deck below." Continuing to pace without faltering, Wes just shot his squadron-mate a withering glare.

Inyri was out of breath as she slipped into her quarters. The first thing out of her mouth was, "there are about 10,000 places to hide on this ship. But there was one thing that the folks down in engineering said that caught my attention. On this deck, and the far end from us, is another set of living quarters that were never fully restored. They're sealed off, and there's no power to that part of the ship, but you can get in there, and it isn't vacuum. Life support systems are fully functional."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Something about structure and wiring. To cut off life support to that area only would have been complicated, so they just didn't do it."

"This would be where he is," Ooryl said suddenly.

Wes glanced curiously at the Gand and nodded slowly. "Inyri, comm Wedge, find out where he is, and tell him where we've gone."

"Yes, sir. But don't you want to know how to get into that area? It _is_ sealed off."

Wes looked sheepish. "Yeah, that'd probably help."

She motioned him and Ooryl over and held up a datapad. On the screen was a schematic of the deck they were on. "We're here." With a finger, she circled the general area where the Rogues and Wraiths had been assigned quarters. Then she traced her finger down a corridor and around a few corners. "There's a maintenance access door here. Once you're inside, there'll be no light. So take a couple lamps or glow rods or something. That's the only way in or out, short of cutting a hole through the wall somewhere else, which the boys on the lower deck advise against."


	18. Not Much Time Left

Thanks for all the feedback.

Nikki – thanks for the suggestions. We think alike. Here's a section on what's happening on the ground, and there's more to come on that.

---------------

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 18: Not Much Time Left

---------------

Elscol walked into the main area of the warehouse that was serving as their ground HQ, the area she'd taken to calling the command center. They'd been chafing at the delay since they'd received Wedge's message that Jesina had Face had gone missing. From the look on Hobbie's face as she walked up to him, his pessimism was running on overload. "We got another communication from Wedge."

"How's it going up there?" Hobbie asked. His eyes betrayed his worry. Not that she was surprised by that. A very old friend of his was missing, held prisoner by either a traitor or a total wacko – or both.

"They found Loran. He'd taken a pretty bad stun blast, but he's pretty well recovered. Dreis is still missing, and Janson and Qrygg are searching for her. They have an idea as to where Lonciez is hiding her."

"So it is him."

Elscol shrugged. "That's the consensus, though Loran didn't actually see who shot him. Long story short, there's every possibility that we've been sold out."

"How long does Wedge plan on waiting before he sends people down?"

"He's not waiting anymore. Forge, Loran, Sarkin, and the air support crew from your last op are headed down now. Wedge is staying behind until Dreis is found, and Janson and Qrygg are staying too, obviously."

"There goes the diplomatic visit thing."

"Oh, Wedge is still going to make the diplomatic visit, to try to get the outright support of the planetary government. But that's going to wait until Dreis is found – whatever her condition at the time. I get the impression that Wedge is operating under the assumption that everything about your mission has been exposed."

"Sounds like a pretty valid assumption," Kell said, approaching with three cups of caf, two of which he proceeded to hand off to Elscol and Hobbie. "Face and Inyri are leading the flight group down?"

Elscol nodded. "They're designated as Rogue. I'm having them land not far from here. There's a hangar that used to be part of the spaceport but was abandoned. It's not going to be a secret landing by any stretch of the imagination, but it's close, so it's convenient."

"How close are they?"

"Not far. They'll be here soon."

"Unless Hekrig intercepts them," Hobbie interrupted.

Kell, feeling the need to be optimistic, if only to balance out Hobbie, shook his head. "They'll be fine." He paused. "She'll be fine."

Hobbie gave him a quizzical look, but realization dawned when he caught the knowing glint in Kell's eye. "I hope so." He sipped the caf in his hand and turned his attention back to the bank of monitors that lined the wall.

---------------

Elscol had been right about the area she'd told Wedge to have the "Rogues" land. It was close, and there was an added benefit. They'd learned that the tunnel network that Kirney had found for their previous mission wasn't unique. The sweltering tropical heat they were dealing with now was nothing compared to what the weather was like during the summer months, and it was common practice across the planet to build underground tunnels as a way of getting from place to place while avoiding the heat and torrential summer storms. They area they were in was no exception and Hobbie, leading the group sent to retrieve their visitors, was glad for the brief foray into the cool underground. Their command center offered little respite from the mid-afternoon heat.

Their trip both ways, though he was fairly certain the Imps knew every move they made, was uneventful. The most that happened was that he spent the latter half of the walk back with his arm around Inyri, supporting her. Her leg, thought mostly healed, was still sore and she was clearly favoring it. Running around _Lusankya_ after Jesina's disappearance, combined with the flight down, had put a significant strain on it. When he'd noticed her pronounced limp and insisted on helping her, she'd protested vocally. But when he told her that he'd carry her if she wouldn't cooperate, she'd grudgingly given in.

Once they'd reached their destination, he'd shown her to one of the areas Elscol had designated for sleeping and ordered her to rest – an order that was met with staunch resistance. "What you pulled on the walk over was bad enough," she said, her voice edged with either frustration or anger – he couldn't tell which and wasn't sure he really wanted to know which it was. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to let you baby me."

Understanding her point but bordering on exasperation just the same – not so much with her but with the feeling of helplessness he had about this whole strange situation – he sat down next to the cot she was sitting on and squeezed her hand. "I'm not babying you. You have an injury that, I'm guessing, you didn't give enough time to heal." He held up his free hand to quiet her before she spoke. "Bacta's one thing – trust me, I know – but you needed to let it rest and I doubt you did that. And I don't know how much longer Hekrig is going to wait. He's got to know where we are. I'm going to talk to Elscol now about what her evac plan is, but if it involves running – and it probably does – you need to be able to do that."

Unable to argue with his logic, and unable to ignore the slight throbbing in her leg, she nodded. "All right. But don't order me around like that again."

"Fair enough." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and left.

Elscol was nursing her fourth – or was it fifth? – cup of caf when he rejoined her. "Lot of activity on the perimeter of the system. It's a good bet that Hekrig knows there's more than just a little resistance going on." She took a sip and swallowed. "How long?"

"Huh?"

"You and Forge. How long?"

His face reddened slightly. "How did you know?"

"Between what Tainer said earlier and the way you were with her when you got back – not to mention that I happened to walk by there a minute ago and saw you." She repeated her question. "How long?"

"About six months."

"I take it no one else knows?"

"Except Kell, apparently. We've been trying to keep it quiet."

"And deprive Wedge of paying you back for the harassment you gave him over Iella and just about every other female he so much as glanced at?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"That, and avoid Wes tormenting us. And any payback from Tycho, too."

"I won't say anything. But I wouldn't bet on Tainer keeping his mouth shut." She drained the cup of the last drops of caf and tossed it in a trash receptacle. "Look. There's every possibility we may have to run quickly, and you and your people need to know where to go if that happens. Grab Loran, Tainer, and either Forge or Darklighter and we'll go over it."

They walked toward a table in the back, collecting Face, Kell and Gavin on the way, Hobbie electing to let Inyri rest and fill her in later. "Time to talk about our escape plan, boys," Elscol said, reaching for a bottle of water this time instead of more caf.

"If Hekrig makes a move on us – and my bet is he will, and soon – we have a few ways out. All of which come down to the same thing."

"That doesn't sound good."

"It's not as bad as you think. First off, most of these people here are locals. If we're raided, they'll just scatter. Which is pretty much what we're going to have to do."

"That really doesn't sound good, Elscol," Hobbie echoed Face.

"Would you be quiet for a second?" she admonished him, but smiled. Met with silence, she went on. "There are three back ways out of here. One is the tunnel you used earlier, that leads back to your fighters – the limited number of them that are there. My advice on that is to get as many people in the air as possible, and have them cover the rest of you while you try to make it to the jungle to find a place to hide. I have people who can come in and pick you up, but it'll take some time."

"A second is a branch off of that tunnel, about two-thirds of the way to the hangar. It leads out closer to the tree line, so there'll be less open ground to cover to get to the relative safety of the tree cover."

"The third option is what I'm planning on using. About twenty meters away from the first tunnel entrance is a second one, which leads pretty close to a jungle clearing where I have my ship – I decided to move it closer to us the last time I came back. I left a lot of my equipment on board the _Lusankya_ to make sure I could take as many as possible. I can manage – though it'll weigh me down – all of you that don't have your fighters here."

"Elscol, I don't mind telling you that none if this is very appealing," Hobbie muttered darkly.

"I don't mind telling you that I know that, and I'm not too thrilled about it myself. I'm having to change everything as I go along." She sighed. "I hate this."

"I know."

"I'm doing all I can. I never wanted you people involved."

Wanting to change the subject back to the matter of escape, Kell asked Elscol, "How will your people be able to find us, or you, for that matter, if we can't all make it to your ship?"

"Thanks for the reminder." She stood. "Be right back."

She returned a moment later, carrying a small box. "Locator beacons, three for each group. As soon as you activate it, my guys will know that something happened, and they'll start to move, unless I contact them and tell them I've got you all."

That said, she straightened up. "Tell your people what's going to happen. I doubt we've got much time left."


	19. And it Begins

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 19: And it Begins

---------------

Wes and Ooryl paused outside the access door. "Ooryl, wait just inside. Try to find a place to hide, but keep where you can see the door. I'll keep my comlink on, with the setting low. Don't let Lonciez leave if you see him."

"Ooryl will not."

Wes frowned. He knew the Gand culture that required that Ooryl refer to himself in different ways in different circumstances, but he didn't always understand when he chose to use them. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, major."

Wes turned the old-fashioned wheel to open the door. Before he actually pulled it open, he drew his blaster.

---------------

Inside, the place was pitch black. Wes was glad he'd thought to grab a pair of night-vision goggles to replace the ones he'd lost during their rescue mission.

He crept slowly up and down the corridors, listening for any sounds and watching for even the slightest movement, but saw and heard nothing. He was going to have to start opening doors, and that could get dangerous. The last thing he wanted was to warn Lonciez he was there by sliding the door open, only to have the man start firing at him before he could even tell that the room wasn't empty. There had to be a better way.

He'd stopped in the middle of the corridor, trying to figure out just what that better way was when something caught his attention, though he didn't know what. He sidestepped quickly, flattening himself against the wall around the nearest corner. His eyes widened as Lonciez walked right by him. This was too easy, and something didn't seem right.

"Hi there," Wes said, stepping away from the wall, blaster pointed at Lonciez. "Take me to wherever you have Jesina, and maybe she can talk me into not using this on you."

"You're very good," Lonciez replied, raising his hands slightly as if to tell Janson that he wasn't going to argue. "This way, toward the back."

"You're being very cooperative."

"I like living." He paused. "I have no intention of harming her. She used to be my partner. I care for her very much."

"Yes, I'll bet you do. But the feeling isn't mutual, as I'm sure you've realized. And we want her back."

Lonciez stopped walking in front of the third unit to the end. "In here."

"Open it. And don't try anything, because I'd be glad to get in a little shooting practice here and now."

"I have no intention of becoming your target, major." He reached out with both hands and pushed the door up. It wasn't an easy task, and went up slowly, but Wes saw that Jesina was indeed inside. She was sitting on the floor in the corner, hands secured with binders, but she looked all right.

"Release her."

Lonciez stepped forward, helping Jesina to her feet. He unfastened the binders and tossed them aside. He then, still holding Jesina's arm, spun her around and shoved her toward Wes, who stumbled backward as her full weight hit him.

Jesina hit Wes and then the floor as Vayl bolted from the room. She shook her head in a futile attempt to clear the fog that seemed to be surrounding her brain. "He...it's all planned...he's going..." She stopped and shook her head again.

"Are you okay?" Wes asked, kneeling beside her.

"He...he drugged me...I think. Water?" She leaned her head against the wall as he went to the refresher and came back with a glass. She drank it quickly, probably more quickly than she should have, and her head felt a little better. "You have to go. He's heading for the hangar – he's headed for the Imperials."

"I can't comm anyone – we're being jammed." He shook his head, frustrated. "I can't leave you like this. If he comes back..."

"You sound like a sap. Go, Janson. I'm going to head for the bridge. I can make it. I'll send anyone I pass your way. Don't let him off this ship." He hesitated and, to prove her point, she pulled herself – with a lot of effort – to her feet and gave him a shove. "Go."

Her head was starting to clear as she ran. She needed to tell Captain Ackrand that there was a possibility that they're position would be, or had been, exposed. She also wanted the Captain to give the ship's gunners the order to shoot down a shuttle, escape pod, or other stray ship, and to have MPs sent to secure any escape pod launchers.

She ran almost headlong into Tyria Sarkin and Face Loran. "Sarkin," she gasped out, winded from running while she still felt ill. "Janson's headed for the main hangar. Go to the other. We need to stop Vayl from getting off the ship."

She reached for her comlink, but Jesina shook her head. "Keep trying, but it doesn't work. We're being jammed. Go!"

He nodded and took off in the direction she'd just come from, and Face jogged along with her. "Colonel, you don't look very good."

"He...he drugged me, is all. It hasn't gotten out of my system yet."

"Yeah, I see that." He paused. "You heading for the bridge?"

She nodded and told him why. "Dead or alive, we can't let him get away from us. I don't know how much he knows, but if he knows anything, it's too much for Hekrig to get his hands on. We're going to have it tough enough going up against him, without him knowing where all our people are."

Just then her comlink buzzed and her stomach flipped over on itself. If the jamming had stopped, he was either trying to transmit a signal to the Imps or he was no longer on the ship. "Dreis," she answered.

"He got out – I couldn't reach him in time," Wes' voice came over the unit.

At that exact moment, her head started to swim. "Shoot...him...down," she mumbled, as her knees buckled. As she hit the ground, her comlink fell from her hand. "Scramble...Rogue." Face just barely heard her.

He knelt next to her, checking her pulse with one hand and picking up the comlink with the other. "Janson, it's Loran. She's down – sick or drugged or both. She said to scramble Rogue. I think she's worried that he already got a message out."

On his end of the conversation, Wes nodded. "Get her to the medcenter and put Aces and Legacy on high alert to move the second we need them. I'll get in touch with Wedge."

--------------------

Wes walked into the medcenter half an hour later, with news that Lonciez was dead and that there'd been no sign that the Imps were making any move toward them. Wedge had decided to keep the three squadrons on high alert in case anything did happen.

"How is she?" he asked the doctor who was looking over a datapad when he walked in.

She looked up at him. "I don't know. She's still not conscious, which worries me. Especially considering that I can't figure out what the substance in her system is, except that it's not a drug."

Wes frowned, glancing briefly over his shoulder as Wedge walked in, but turned his attention back to the doctor. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if it was simply a drug, it would be showing some sign of dissipation from her blood stream – the levels would be either remaining steady, or decreasing slowly. That's not what's happening here." She motioned for the two men to follow her.

She led them to a computer screen. The display showed jagged lines, going up and down across the screen. "This line tracks the substance levels in her blood. "It decreases and increases, but never falls below the point it was at when she first was brought in. Overall, the level has increased. I don't think she was drugged – this looks more like poison. But it's not a substance I've ever seen before."

She paused. "I do, however, know what it's doing. It's triggering the release of a very high level of a particular hormone called AHD. In turn, the high levels of AHD in her blood are weakening her organ function. Particularly, her lungs at this point."

Wes looked at Wedge and then back to her. "If you can't figure out what it is, then that means that it's not something readily available."

"Which means he wasn't nuts – he planned this whole thing."

"And now he's dead, and we have no way of finding out what this stuff is, how to counteract it, or if he's been in constant communication with someone in the Imperial camp," Wedge continued.

"I'm glad we sent everyone down to meet Elscol."

Wedge looked back to the doctor. "Can you save her?"

"Only if I can find something to counteract whatever she was given, of if someone comes up with a way to neutralize the additional AHD. Otherwise, she'll die."

Wedge massaged his temples. "Are there doctors on, for example, Coruscant, who can do this?"

"It's possible," she admitted, nodding. "I can send the data I have back and see if they can come up with anything, and we'll work on it here, of course."

"Do that." Just then his comlink beeped. "Antilles."

"General, we just received a communication from Zhar. Elscol Loro is evacuating her command center."

Wedge and Wes exchanged glances. "And it begins," Wes muttered.


	20. News of the Outside World

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 20: News of the Outside World

---------------

Ishana Lur watched Tycho for a moment. He was looking better than he had in his first few weeks in the hospital. He wasn't as thin and his color had improved significantly. But he was still having trouble with his emotions – he'd actually had to be sedated last night. "I have news for you, Tycho."

"Oh?"

She hid a smile. He was trying his damnedest not to show interest, but she he was dying for news of, as he called it, the "outside world." His wife and Leia Organa Solo visited him as often as possible, but both were busy women and the visiting hours were restricted here. "They managed to secure the prisoner they were going after."

"Casualties?" he asked, leaning forward intently.

She was pleased to note that he was slipping into his role of the squadron's XO. He hadn't done that lately – not since the state dinner – and she thought it was a good sign. "Elassar Targon was killed, Wes Janson was injured, as was Inyri Forge and a few others. They're all okay, though – as is the prisoner."

"I take it it's someone I know?" Tycho asked.

She nodded. "A man named Corran Horn."

Tycho froze, staring at her. Finally, after opening and closing his mouth several times, he said softly, "I don't understand."

"The man you shot down wasn't Corran. No one knows who he was, but Corran Horn is alive, though much the worse for wear."

He sat quietly for a moment before asking her, "Why doesn't that make me feel better?"

She wanted to hug him. That was the reaction she'd been hoping for, but she hadn't really expected it, and she was glad to have him prove her wrong. "Because Corran wasn't your problem, and you're realizing it now."

He frowned, but didn't respond. "Your reaction to Corran's death was just what made you and everyone else realize that you had problems." She paused, and he shook his head.

"It's not only that, I don't think. It's...it's that I could have shot him down. I thought it was him, and I was willing to kill him. I didn't want to, and it nearly killed me to do it, but I did."

"How do you feel about that?"

He glowered. He hated when she used what he thought of as placating phrases.

"I'm sorry, but I really do want to know what that makes you feel. I think it's important for you to understand – and for me to understand."

"I hate it. It's like...that's the way we always saw Imperials, as not caring about life, as willing to turn on their own at the littlest thing. It's as if I feel like I became that."

She shook her head. "How did you feel after it happened?"

"Immediately after? Or a day or two later?"

"Both."

"Right after, I was kind of stunned, but I didn't really feel guilty. I wanted to know what happened, why Corran had tried to kill Wedge. But I didn't blame myself. I'd defended Wedge. It was my job."

He paused and asked for a glass of water. The medication he was on – mood stabilizers, Ishana called them - combined with talking, made his mouth and throat dry. She gave him a plastic cup and he drank half of it before continuing.

"After that, though, I started thinking about Mirax and their kids, and the fact that I HADN'T felt guilty right away, and it made me feel even more guilty." He paused. "It's like I feel like the war, all the fighting, has finally gotten the best of me. Wedge and I always said that when we stopped feeling for the people we lost, it was time to retire."

"Maybe it is."

"Seems to me I'm pretty much retired."

"Perhaps." She folded her hands in front of her. "Tycho, if you recover to my satisfaction, you could conceivably return to active duty. If you wanted to."

That was key. If he wanted to. But thinking about it like this, he wasn't sure he wanted to. He had a wife who he never saw. He really did want the chance to have children, and he wasn't sure he wanted to allow his work to take away any more of his humanity than it already had. But just the same, he felt like, if he could return and didn't, he was turning his back on his friends, and all the people he'd dedicated his life to protecting. He told her that. "I'd feel like I was abandoning them."

"Most of them would disagree."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. But I can guess."

"Even if I did go back, though, do you think anyone would trust me?"

"Yes. I know they would."

"How?"

She paused. "Do you remember Iline Jesmin?"

He nodded. "She's a good pilot, and a strong leader. The Rogues served with her at Hoth, and a few other times over the years."

"I know. Iline's my sister, and after I learned I was treating you, I called her. I wanted to get an independent opinion of you. She was very frank with me. Like many people, she wasn't surprised to have learned what happened to you, and she felt badly. But she also said she respected you, and would follow you in a fight, even now."

"Iline's biased. She knows me."

"Exactly. That's why I talked to her about you. She knows what kind of person you are. I think her assessment of you was fairly accurate. And it's because of the type of person you are that I think you could return to service. You'd have to be a lot more careful about how you deal with things, but I think you could do it – again, if you wanted to. And quite frankly, I can't see you sitting out what remains of this fight."


	21. Everything Fell Apart

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 21: Everything Fell Apart

---------------

"Elscol!"

She spun around, spilling some of her caf. "What's happening?"

"You've got perimeter alarms going off all over the map."

"Wake your girlfriend, major," Elscol told him. "It's time to go."

"I'm here," Inyri said, noting the way Elscol had referred to her, but not particularly caring either way. "What's going on?"

"We've got about five minutes until the Imps are knocking on our front door." She slapped at a control panel, and everyone in the room looked up as the relative quiet was broken by the blast of an alarm. "Get your people out of here!" she yelled over the din. This was, first and foremost, her fighter, and she felt she owed it to Wedge to keep his people – some of them her friends – alive.

As soon as the alarm had started, the Rogues had formed up around Hobbie and Inyri, and the Wraiths around Kell and Face, who had joined them when Face heard Hobbie yell for Elscol. As soon as Hobbie knew that all the New Republic personnel were there, he ordered Face to move his people out. The Wraiths began heading for the rear exit, nearest the tunnels, and the Rogues followed suit. Hobbie planned on getting those who'd just flown down to their ships, and then heading for cover to wait for Elscol and her backup.

They made it to the tunnels before everything fell apart – literally. A few flashes of blaster fire lit up the tunnel ahead of the Wraiths, and then the ceiling came down.

---------------

Inyri and Hobbie, leading the Rogues, were about five meters behind Piggy, Shalla, and Runt when the ceiling of the tunnel between them collapsed. There was no explosion, just the crash as the duracrete that had been overhead hit the ground.

Coughing from the dust that had filled the air, Inyri stared at Hobbie, then at the now blockaded passage, and then back to Hobbie. "We have to go back."

He nodded. "Double back. Head for Elscol's freighter. Keep low and to the sides, and expect a fight."

On the short trip back Hobbie slipped up to the front, ordering Inyri, who wasn't pleased, to stay in back. As they reached the entrance, he could see into what had been their command center. It had turned into a shooting gallery, with those who hadn't been able to escape hiding behind overturned tables and equipment that now bore many more holes than they had originally been made with. When he stopped, the others gathered around him, resting on hands and knees. "The other entrance is about 20 meters that way. It's all open. Keep low until you get behind the building, and then run as fast as you can. There's nothing to hide behind if anyone sees us." They were outside the warehouse, but about 10 meters was open to view from inside the building, via the door and a long window. The last ten was hidden by the warehouse's back wall. "Inyri, Donos, Duryll, go."

He watched as Inyri led them, following his instructions to the letter. He kept glancing back at the melee inside the warehouse, and was glad to see that the Imps inside had been distracted by what looked like more of Elscol's people who had arrived in an attempt to help those still inside get out. Elscol, having headed to her ship, was long gone.

As Duryll disappeared into the tunnel, he ordered Gavin and Ensa to go and followed himself. But Ensa's foot caught on a stone and he fell forward, catching the attention of at least one Imperial, who opened fire on them and was soon joined by others. "Go!" Hobbie yelled as Ensa scrambled forward, not even bothering to get to his feet.

He had just reached the tunnel, right behind Gavin, when the Imps who had seen them made it outside. He knew he was in trouble a second before the blaster bolt hit him in the back, spinning him around as another struck his chest. Gavin, who'd turned at Hobbie's cry, grabbed the Rogue and pulled him in, though he wasn't sure it would do him any good at all. "Cover us," Gavin told Ensa, Duryll, and Donos as he adjusted Hobbie in his arms. "Run, Inyri. Don't bother looking." Right before he'd turned to grab Hobbie, he'd seen Inyri freeze momentarily as the man was hit. But she'd managed to shake it off, and started down the tunnel without saying a word.

Inyri had seen Hobbie fall and, for a moment, had been unable to move, or to speak. But seeing Gavin react had been enough to shake her out of it, to give her some reassurance, false though it might have been – she didn't know yet and didn't want to – that he would be all right, and to jar her into moving. She heard another shout behind her, and knew that someone else had been hit. A look over her shoulder told her it had been Duryll. And then, seconds later, the shooting stopped.

Inyri wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad one until she heard Myn say, "There's no one else. I don't think most of the Imps even realized we were there, just those few."

The slight lull gave Inyri a chance to turn around. "How is he, Gavin?" she asked, afraid to hear the man's reply.

"I...not good, Inyri. I don't think—"

She cut him off, unwilling to let him finish the sentence. "Myn, how is Duryll?"

"He's dead," the Corellian said, straightening up from having checked the fallen Rogue's pulse. "We have to keep moving. They may not have realized where we went yet, but they will." He reached over and activated the locator Hobbie had secured to his belt, and then did the same for Gavin, who couldn't reach his, and watched as Inyri did as well. "Let's hope Elscol hasn't taken off yet."

As they started moving again, this time walking quickly rather than running, Inyri pulled out her comlink. "Wraith Lead, come in."

"Lead here. That you, eleven?"

"Yeah. Rogue four is dead, and six is down. How are you?"

"We lost Wraith four in the cave in." She could hear the pain in his voice, and guessed that it had been mirrored in hers. "Everyone else is more or less in one piece. Your people mind if we borrow the x-wings? I'm guessing you're hitting Elscol up for a ride off this rock?"

"Go ahead. Good luck."

"Good luck, eleven. Wraith Lead out."

"Out." She switched frequencies. "Elscol, come in. This is Rogue Eleven."

"I read you."

"We're heading your way. There was a cave-in in one of the tunnels and we got separated from the Wraiths – they're taking the x-wings out. We have one loss, and six is badly injured."

Elscol was silent for a moment. "I'll be ready for you."

---------------

Gavin lay Hobbie down on a cot in the cabin that Elscol had set up for him, along with some medical equipment. But even before he set Hobbie down, Gavin knew that there would be no need for the medical equipment.

Inyri appeared in the doorway. "How is he?"

Gavin slowly straightened up and turned to face her. He knew there were tears in his eyes and right now he didn't give a damn. "I'm sorry, Inyri."

Her breath caught and she stared at him, exhaling shakily as Gavin approached his wingmate and put his arms around her. Inyri had told him about her involvement with Hobbie not long after they'd started seeing each other and, though she normally hid her feelings for him well among the rest of the squadron, he spent more time with her than most and knew that she would take this very hard.

She let him hold her for a moment before gently pushing him away. "I...If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a while."

"I understand. But if you want to talk..."

"I know."

As Gavin left, she sat down in a chair and stared at Hobbie's still form. This mission was getting worse and worse, and she didn't know how much longer they could all hold on. First, Corran's supposed death, and Tycho's breakdown. Then they found Corran, but one of the Wraiths was killed. Now Jesina was missing, another Wraith was dead, and two Rogues were gone. And Elscol had been forced to abandon her resistance effort, albeit briefly, because Hekrig had chosen this perfect point in time to come after them.

Now she understood how Hobbie had felt about Hekrig.

It didn't seem fair. That man had nearly killed him once before, a long time ago. And now he'd come back to finish what he'd started. And he had, at least in Hobbie's case. She wondered if this was at least partly a vendetta against the Rogues – if he was coming after them now because they'd had the gall to survive him before.

She reached over and took his hand. It felt cold against her skin, and she shivered despite the warmth of the air on the ship. "It isn't fair," she murmured, as the tears she'd managed to hold back in front of Gavin slid down her cheeks.

Her face was buried in her hands when Elscol walked in. "Gavin told me he didn't make it," she said gently, sitting down across from Inyri. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Inyri raised her head and looked at Elscol, feeling like she was looking at an older version of herself. Elscol seemed to have the same kind of hard exterior she put up, but she'd seen enough of the other woman to know that she was a lot softer than she appeared to be, though she could be as hard as the situation called for. It was the way Hobbie had described her once. "Not really."

"I'm not going to pretend that I know exactly how you feel. I've lost a lot of friends, but not someone I loved the way you clearly did him. And I'm not going to pretend that anything I can say can make it better – I've lost enough friends that I know that platitudes often just make me want to hit someone. But I wanted to remind you that a lot of people cared about him very much – me, Wedge, Tycho, Wes, Dreis, and a lot of others – and that if you need to talk, any one of them will be more than willing." She paused. "I'm going to comm Wedge and warn him and Wes, so they won't be hit quite as hard when we reach them. I wanted to know if you wanted to be there."

"I...they don't know about us...I don't think...I'd rather not," she finally managed.

"It's all right." Elscol squeezed her hand and stood. "You need anything? A drink, or some food? I don't have much, but I've got some water and a few small snacks."

"No, thanks." Inyri paused. "How long until we reach _Lusankya_?"

"About an hour." She turned to leave, but turned back. "Also, do you want me let Wedge know about that you'd been seeing him? So he'll know to expect you to be a little..." she trailed off.

"Go ahead," Inyri said softly, her eyes traveling back toward Hobbie. "He asked me to marry him, you know," she whispered. "The night of that stupid dinner that started the whole thing. He'd gone with Cheriss, the girl from Adumar. Once we were on board _Lusankya_, he told me that had made him realize he was sick of hiding it, and he wanted to make it real." She laughed despite herself. "I laughed at him, but I said yes. We were going to wait until we were back on Coruscant, and Tycho could be there, to even announce it."

Elscol had stopped short when Inyri had begun to speak. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks."

---------------

"General, you have a transmission from the _Firestorm_."

Wedge frowned. That was Elscol's ship. Or, rather, the name she was using on this world. He'd forgotten what the vessel's actual name was. "Put it through to my quarters." He turned to face the comm unit as Elscol's face appeared, and frowned. She looked like she'd been crying.

"My headquarters was raided." Straight to the point – that was Elscol for you. "The Wraiths are en route to _Lusankya_ via x-wing, minus SaBinring, who was killed on the surface. I have the Rogues with me, except for Seco, who was also killed." She paused.

Wedge had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What happened, Elscol?"

She swallowed hard. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done anything this difficult. "Wedge..."

The sinking feeling was now a block of ice. "What, Elscol?"

"Hobbie is dead."


	22. The Hard Part

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils  
  
Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.  
  
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 22: The Hard Part

---------------

Wedge stared at Elscol, her words not quite sinking in. "I...how?"

"He was shot twice, once in the back, once in the chest. He never really had a chance. Gavin carried him back to my ship, but he was already dead by the time they reached me. I'm sorry, Wedge."

"I know," was all he could think of to say.

Elscol was silent for a moment. "You've got some people here who are pretty bad off. The Twi'Lek is blaming himself." She explained to him what she'd been told about his falling. "And Inyri Forge isn't dealing too well with it either."

Wedge frowned. "Inyri? Why?" From the tone of Elscol's voice, it was something more than the loss of a squadron mate.

"She and Hobbie had been seeing each other for about six months. He proposed to her the night you all left Coruscant."

"I had no idea." Wedge fell silent.

Knowing he needed to talk to Janson and Dreis, if she'd been found, Elscol elected to end the transmission. "Wedge, we'll be there in about forty minutes. Again, I'm sorry. _Firestorm_ out."

---------------

Wedge had sat in the silence of his quarters for about ten minutes after Elscol had ended their conversation before deciding he really needed to warn Wes. And then he needed to figure out how to keep an eye on Wes because the last thing he thought he could deal with was another pilot going off the deep end. And if anyone would have a right to after this, it would be Wes. He picked up his comlink. "Janson, I need to talk to you."

"Give me five minutes,"

"Now, Wes." Wedge heard his voice break and knew Wes must have, too.

Janson was at his door in a minute and a half. "What's going on, Wedge?"

Wedge motioned him in. "Sit down, Wes."

The man was, if possible, even more serious than he'd been for the last few hours. "What's going on, Wedge?"

Wedge couldn't bring himself to say it just yet. "Did you know Hobbie and Inyri were dating?"

Wes shook his head. Hobbie and Inyri? "How long?"

"About six months, apparently. He proposed to her the night of the Adumar dinner."

Wes frowned. Hobbie hadn't said a word. "He was probably afraid that you'd pay him back for us tormenting you over Iella."

"Or he was afraid of subjecting her to whatever taunting you'd have come up with," Wedge shot back. Normally he'd have laughed. Now he felt like crying. Sure enough, the tears did fill his eyes.

Those tears didn't go unnoticed. "Wedge, what happened?"

"Hobbie was shot, Wes. Twice. He didn't survive the trip to Elscol's ship. She's bringing his body back."

All color drained from Wes' face. "How...?"

"Their command center was raided. Piggy was also killed, and Duryll Seco. I don't know exactly what happened. Sounds like Ensa fell and that's what drew the Imps attention. He's blaming himself, and Inyri isn't doing very well."

"Neither am I." Wes stood abruptly. "I'm gonna go, Wedge. I can't..."

"Wes," Wedge reached out and grabbed Wes' arm. "Damn it, Wes. I just went through this with Tycho. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you do the same thing."

"I'm not going to lose it, Wedge. I'm not going to go down a bottle of whiskey, and I'm not going to put a blaster to my head. I'm going to go check on Jesina, and then I'm going to go to my quarters so hat I can hopefully be a little more composed by the time Elscol gets here." He tried to pull away from Wedge, but the man wouldn't release him.

"Let. Me. Go." Wes' voice was deadly serious as he locked eyes with Wedge. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to talk. He wanted some time alone. When Wedge wouldn't let him go, he shoved the man backward to break his grip, and then disappeared out the door as Wedge picked himself up off the floor.

---------------

Wes and Wedge, who'd more than forgiven Wes for their little fight in his quarters, were waiting when Elscol docked with _Lusankya_. Ensa was the first off the ship, followed by Donos, Gavin, and Elscol. "Forge is in the cabin. His body is in there, too. She won't leave."

Wedge stepped forward, intending to board and talk to her, but Wes stopped him. "Let me."

He walked slowly up the ramp and disappeared into the ship. Sure enough, he found Inyri sitting beside Hobbie's body. Her face was streaked with tears. "Hey."

She didn't look up at him. "Hey."

He knelt down next to her. "How you holding up?"

"I've been better." She finally met his eyes, and could see that he'd been crying.

"Feel like talking?"

"Not really."

He was silent for a moment. "You two were good."

Inyri looked over at him again, tearing her eyes away from Hobbie's body, confusion written on her face. "Good?" she echoed.

He nodded. "I wouldn't have thought that it was possible to hide a relationship for as long as you two managed to. Especially in this group."

She shrugged. "A couple people knew. I told Gavin, and Kell figured it out somehow." She paused. We were going to tell everyone soon, anyway. We were waiting until we got back to Coruscant to tell people we were getting married. He wanted to tell you, Wedge, and Tycho at the same time."

Wes was taken aback. Getting married? "I knew something was up with him, but I didn't know it was you, and I didn't know it was that serious. And I'm sorry. I should have."

"Not really. We made a point of keeping it quiet."

Wes couldn't help but feel hurt that his best friend hadn't confided in him about something as important as this. Inyri noticed. "He wanted to tell you. But we knew he couldn't tell you and not Wedge and Tycho, and that would involve Iella and Winter finding out and Leia and we were worried that if a lot of people knew, then other people we didn't want to know would find out and, well, I'm babbling, but you get the holo."

"Yeah." They lapsed into silence for a moment, broken when Wes asked, "Six months, huh?"

"Since we got serious about each other, yeah. We actually started seeing each other right after Adumar."

"I knew it." A smile appeared briefly on his face. "I asked him if he was seeing someone. He said he wasn't, but I didn't believe him."

"I know." She stifled a laugh. He told me about that. He was convinced you were going to figure it out and that you'd harass him for the rest of his—" She broke off, a stricken look on her face. "Gods, Wes," she murmured.

He stood and drew her to her feet. Slipping an arm around the woman who would have been his best friend's wife, he pulled her close to him and said softly, "Let's get out of here." She nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder, and let him lead her off the ship, and past Gavin, Elscol, Wedge, and the others who were waiting outside.

---------------

"Wedge, you have to involve her!" Wes exploded. They were planning a strategy session with Elscol, and trying to decide who to include. Wes was fighting for Inyri.

"No, I don't. She's very emotional right now—"

"And that's different from you and me how?"

Wes saw with satisfaction that Wedge was at a loss for how to counter his point. "Come on, Wedge. She's earned it. So has Gavin. When Hobbie was shot, they took over, and they got themselves, Donos, and Ensa out alive."

"Janson has a point, Wedge. You're down by five. Horn will be up and around soon. Dreis may not be. You need all the input you can get. I say, involve all the Rogues, and the Wraiths, for that matter." She didn't want to get involved in squadron politics, but this was her party the New Republic was crashing and while she was grateful for the help, she wanted some say in what was about to happen – especially since she'd just abandoned her people.

Wedge raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. "All right. Wes, get Inyri – if she's up to it – and the rest of the Rogues, and the Wraiths, into the main briefing room. Iline Jesmin, Pash Cracken, and the other squadron COs and their XOs – those who are on board _Lusankya_, at least – and Captain Ackrand, too. Corran's awake now – he woke up about half an hour ago – so I'll see if he feels up to it, and Iella and a couple of other Intel agents will be here in about ten minutes. Hopefully, this will be our last planning session.

---------------

Everyone was assembled by the time Wedge and Wes walked in – including Corran and Inyri. Wedge wasted no time with pleasantries. "I want to start with an update of our status."

"Wraith Squadron, our primary ground team, is down to six members, with the loss of Piggy SaBinring in the command center evacuation. The command center, by the way, is a total loss." He sighed. This was the hard part. "Also, with Jesina Dreis out of commission indefinitely but Corran Horn finally able to rejoin us, and with the deaths of Duryll Seco and Hobbie Klivian, Rogue Squadron is down to eight members." He stopped for a moment to calm himself. He hadn't missed the shocked looks on Pash, Iline, Iella, and some of the others when he'd said Hobbie's name.

"Now, our mission parameters have changed. Major Janson and I, and Agent Wessiri, will be heading down to the surface within the next eighteen hours to meet with the President, to try to talk him into aligning with the New Republic, at least to make a stand against Hekrig. We're also going to make it clear to him that, with or without his cooperation, we are going to continue our efforts to find that lab."

"Can we actually do that?" Pash asked, frowning.

Wedge sighed. Leave it to Pash to raise that issue. It wasn't like it hadn't occurred to him, though. "Technically, no." He glanced at his wife. "Iella, would you like to field that one?"

She stood. "Sure. As Wedge said, technically, we can't. But no one in the New Republic government really cares at this point. We've lost at least four officers to Hekrig, and Zhar is in the middle right now. Whether the planetary government wants to admit it or not, Hekrig is not going to stop until he's found that lab, and NRI and the Council have no problem making a few people mad at us if it means saving a few people's lives."

Wedge thanked her as she sat down and then turned to Elscol. "Elscol's going to talk about the ground component of this mission. And then we're going to figure out how to do this and stay alive."

Before Elscol had a chance to say a word, Wedge's comlink chimed. "Antilles."

"General, this is Dr. Shula. I need to speak with you."

Wedge swore under his breath. "Can it wait, Doctor?"

"No. I need someone responsible for Jesina Dreis down here now."

Wedge glanced at Wes and could see the anxiety on his face. "Go. We can't wait for you, though."

Wes nodded and headed out as Wedge spoke into his comlink again. "Major Janson's on his way."


	23. The Good News and the Not So Good

**Ninjaturtle – **I've actually made it a point to kill people off because I realized the books were at a point where the same nine or so people had been flying together for twelve years or something - not too realistic. And thanks for the suggestion. It's a good idea, and I'll include it soon, I promise.

**Jet** – yeah, the darker side was something that I felt was missing. The NJO books had the darker side and, while I like the characters in the earlier books better, I liked that about the NJO. They were more realistic. 

**RowenaR – **No, I won't kill them all off. I want to do a story after this and for that I need to have characters alive. ;) Thanks for the input on Elscol. I like her character but I admit I don't know a lot about her. And I'm glad you like Jesina. I tend not to create my own characters very much, but I wanted another strong female pilot.

**Lady Sinistra – **shaking things up gets more of a reaction. Glad you like it.

**Nikki** – I'll bring in more Tycho, and I'll make sure not to lose parts of my story again. 

**Banshee – **glad you like! There's plenty more to come.

**A note to all:** I have a couple of other stories, more or less prequels to this story. One is about Tycho going from an Imperial to a Rogue. ("A New Path") The other takes place a little less than a year before this one, primarily taking place on Hoth. ("Bitter Reunion") I'd really love some feedback – and constructive criticism – on those. The stories are both in my profile.

---------------

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 23: The Good News…and the Not So Good

---------------

Wes half-ran to the med center. Dr. Shula was waiting for him. "What's going on? Is something wrong?" he asked. Anyone could have heard the worry in his voice. He was doing nothing to hide it. He glanced over at the bed that Jesina lay in. She looked the same.

"She's getting worse. It's affecting her more rapidly than I'd expected. But I have good news, and this is what I needed you for. Apparently, they've seen this before on Coruscant." A strange look crossed her face. "It was used on General Bel Iblis."

"Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's fine. Still a little weak, but he resumed command within a week of beginning treatment. And he was much worse off than Jesina is, and not as healthy to begin with, being older than she is."

"So you know how to treat it?"

She nodded. "It's a serious of injections – essentially a cocktail of a couple of different hormones. It's intended to do exactly what I said earlier – counteract the high levels of AHD in her bloodstream. It'll be a strict regimen – every four hours, on the hour, for the next thirty-six hours, and then every eight hours, on the hour, for the following sixteen."

He frowned. "It sounds simple enough." He paused. "No offense, but how come you couldn't figure it out?"

"None taken. The second hormone in the cocktail is synthetic. It's not something that naturally occurs in the body. It was created to treat another illness, and apparently the General's doctors, in their research for a cure, learned that it had, in its early uses, had the types of effects they were looking for. If I'd kept looking, I might have found it, but I wouldn't have really known where to look."

Wes nodded. He didn't really understand a word she said, but she seemed to think it made sense and that was good enough for him. "What did you need someone for?"

"I need authorization to treat. This is still considered experimental, and for that we need either a family member or, absent family, a superior officer."

"Can I give you my word that Wedge will okay this? He's in a briefing right now and time is something we don't have."

"I can accept that. As long as, as soon as he's free, you get him to sign off on it. I could wait, but I don't want to let her get any worse." She was bending the rules, but Major Janson and the General were close enough that she felt as if talking to one – at least on something like this – was talking to the other.

"He'll sign. Don't worry." He looked worriedly at Jesina. "She's going to be all right then? When will she wake up?"

"It took nearly sixteen hours for General Bel Iblis to start to come around. I'd imagine that it'll take her half that. As I said before, she's in better shape than he was – much better. They forwarded me his test results and health records."

He nodded. "Do what you have to do." He glanced again at Jesina's bed. He didn't want to leave, but he needed to know what was going on. Elscol had to get back to the ground, and Wes figured that a few of the Wraiths would be going with her. And she'd probably need a fighter escort to be assured of making it to the surface in one piece. Besides, Jesina wouldn't be waking up for a few hours yet, so there really wasn't anything he could do by staying here, anyway. "I need to go. Let me know immediately if anything changes."

"Yes, sir," the doctor said as he left the med center.

---------------

After Wes left, Elscol stood up, taking Wedge's place in the front of the room. "As you know, our primary goal is to locate the lab that we believe Admiral Hekrig is looking for. We haven't found it yet, but the fact that Hekrig seems so determined to find it tells me that he believes it exists – which is enough for me to keep looking." She glanced at Wedge, asking with her eyes for the bottle of water he'd set down. He handed it to her and she took before going on. "I have people on the planet who, though our command center was hit, are continuing to search."

She took another drink as Iline raised a hand. Elscol swallowed and nodded at her. "Yes, Major?"

"How have you gotten all these people to work with you, given that there's no actual Imperial presence on the planet?"

Wedge nodded his approval. He'd been meaning to ask her that himself, but had kept getting distracted by larger issues.

"That's a good question. Part of it has to do with the fact that these people don't want anyone there – New Republic or Empire. As far as they were concerned, just the suggestion that the Empire might be interested in Zhar would bring New Republic interest, which they didn't want. And, of course, they didn't want the Empire taking over. This is a resistance to the New Republic almost as much as the Empire."

"So we're doing exactly what your people don't want?" Pash asked.

"Pretty much," Elscol admitted. "But those that have come to me with concerns have left more or less satisfied. I've told that your presence here was about rescuing one of your own, not about interfering in their lives, and that I've requested your assistance. And they do understand the New Republic's interest in preventing any weapon or biological agent from falling into Imperial hands, and they're really not keen on having their planet destroyed by the Empire."

"What do you have planned for when you find this lab?" Face asked.

"Blow it up," she replied, glancing at Kell Tainer. Wedge stifled a laugh. She already knew these people well.

Kell grinned, stood, and bowed, and then sat back down. "At your service, ma'am."

"Yes, please, take him," Face told her, motioning with his hands as if to push Kell toward her, eliciting laughter from everyone present.

"I mean it, though," Elscol continued after they'd all quieted. "And I was planning on requesting your assistance, Captain Tainer. The New Republic has no use for the types of things we're expecting to find there, and even if they did, there would still be the risk of them falling into the wrong hands. And that's a risk I don't want to take. The safest outcome for this, from where I stand, is to destroy whatever we find."

"Captain Tainer, Lieutenant Sarkin," Wedge glanced at the couple. Though they were married, she'd kept her own name professionally – as she'd said when she made the decision, one Tainer was more than enough – "and Lieutenants Nelprin and Ekwesh, will be accompanying Elscol to the surface. Her ship will be escorted by Commander Loran and Lieutenant Passak in their x-wings. If possible, Loran and Passak are to return to the _Lusankya_ to fly with Rogue Squadron in what will no doubt be the ensuing space battle." He paused. "We'll be using Rogue designations up here to limit confusion. Loran will fly with Ensa as Rogue Four and Passak will be paired with Janson as Six." He saw Janson, who had just slipped back into the room, stiffen when he assigned Dia to Hobbie's position.

---------------

Corran dropped bodily into a chair in Wedge's office. "Forgive me for not standing at attention, sir, but you wanted to see me?"

Wedge waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Yes, I wanted to know what happened to you. I meant to talk to you before the briefing, but I haven't had a second to stop to think."

"I know. I'm sorry about Hobbie. And Janson told me about Tycho. I feel badly about that."

Wedge arched an eyebrow at him. "Unless you arranged for someone to impersonate you and try to kill me, I don't see what you have to feel badly about."

Corran shrugged. "Just the same…"

Wedge nodded. He understood what the other man was trying to say, and appreciated the sentiment. "Do you know what happened to you?"

Corran shook his head. "Not really. I don't remember much. I remember leaving from debriefing after that last assignment, and not much after that. There are little flashes in my memory that I'm guessing are from waking up and being drugged again. But I really don't know anything. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I didn't expect much."

"I didn't think you did." He paused. "How's Colonel Dreis?"

"She should be coming around soon. If Hekrig holds off for another couple of days, she might even be able to fly with us. Which is good, because we can use everyone we can get."

"She'll be well enough by then?"

"According to Doctor Shula, she should recover quickly. She'll still be weak, but if we need her, she should be able to – provided I give her orders to turn back if she starts to feel at all ill."

"How do you know she'll get well that quickly?" Corran asked. Wedge told him what the doctor told Wes. Corran nodded, looking thoughtful. "Now, I don't know how Hekrig thinks as well as you do, but from what I've been told – I talked to Elscol a little – he's not going to want to fight a two-front war."

Wedge looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm guessing that he's responsible for the attempt on Bel Iblis' life, especially considering what happened with Lonciez. If he's looking at Bel Iblis, he's looking at something bigger than just this lab. But he still wants the lab. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had Lonciez go after the Colonel, and he wouldn't have struck at the command center Elscol was running. Whatever else it is that he wants – and I'm guessing it's Coruscant – he's not going to go after it at the same time. That's not the style of a man who's made his career by not overextending himself and his resources."

Wedge was surprised at how much Corran had picked up in the short time since he'd been up and around. His CorSec colors were shining through. "You think Coruscant's safe until he's done here."

"I think Coruscant's safe until we blow that lab. Then he has no more interest in Zhar and he can throw everything he has at Coruscant."

Wedge nodded. "You're right. That's why, despite the fact that I think that Coruscant is safe right now, I haven't asked for any additional reinforcements."

"Someone should let Leia know as soon as we locate that lab, so they can expect an attack. And I think we need to ask ourselves how long we should actually stay here."

Wedge frowned. "What?" It sounded suspiciously like he was suggesting they abandon Elscol.

"I'm saying, we need to be here to prevent Hekrig from ending Elscol's resistance with a planetary bombardment. But we have to figure out when we need to head back to Coruscant because, if I read the situation properly – and feel free to correct me if you disagree – they're going to need all the help they can get."


	24. Holding on for Dear Life

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 24: Holding on for Dear Life

---------------

"Hey." Iella's voice was soft and laced with concern, her Corellian accent thicker than normal.

"Hey," he replied.

She hesitated, not sure how to broach the subject. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He knew she was talking about Hobbie. "I didn't know how. It was easier to say it once and be done with it."

She came around the desk and perched on the edge, taking his hands. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks." He patted her hand. "Me too." He glanced at one of the holos on his desk. There were two that he took everywhere he went. Both had been taken in the same place – on Adumar, after the civil war had ended and they were in the midst of mopping up. One was of him with Iella. The other, the one that had his attention now, was of him with Tycho, Wes and Hobbie.

"I don't know what to say to anyone. Gavin and Wes have been taking turns comforting Inyri, and Wes is still worried about Jesina. I want to be the one to tell Tycho, but I don't have a clue when I'll be able to." He shook his head. "Then there's this whole situation." He waved his hand around the room, frustrated. "I'd give anything to be able to tell Elscol she's on her own and just go home."

As he said the word 'home' his voice broke. "Fifteen years, Iella. I've known him for fifteen years. Fifteen years of fighting and killing and coming closer and closer to not going home." A few tears slipped from his eyes. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

"You have to, Wedge." She knew her words must have sounded harsh to his ears, but there wasn't much she could say. She knew his conscience wouldn't let him walk away from Elscol now, and would never let him turn his back on the New Republic. He cared too much, and believed in it too much. There was a reason he'd been flying for them for fifteen years, and there was a reason Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie had followed him through all those years. Their sense of duty was unmatched by anyone. She put her arms around him, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. It killed her to see someone as strong as him brought to tears. "It'll be all right." _Somehow_, she added silently.

---------------

Wes was, again, sitting by Jesina's bedside after seeing off Elscol and her contingent of Wraiths. The doctor had only just given her the second dose, but her vital signs were already stronger. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Doctor Shula. "She'll be all right. I'm guessing that she'll come around within the hour. She's recovering much faster than I'd expected."

"Thank you." He looked back to Jesina as the doctor turned away. "Come on, Jes. Wedge needs you. Without Hobbie, and Tycho, you and me are it." He shook himself. What was wrong with him? He was acting as if all he cared about was that they needed her to be able to do her job. He felt like he was channeling one of Han and Leia's arguments on Hoth. "Sorry about that. You're not even conscious and I'm being an ass. Come on, Jes. We need you." He took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

---------------

Jesina thought she heard words through the haze around her brain. _Needs you...without Hobbie...you and me...not even...being an ass._ She felt a hand on hers and squeezed gently. She didn't mean for it to be as feeble as it was – she just wasn't able to muster much strength. She struggled to open her eyes. She thought it was Wes beside her, but could see much more than blurs of color. "Wes?" she tried to ask, but it came out, "es?"

---------------

Wes heard what sounded like his name and his eyes went to her face. "Jes? Jesina, can you hear me?" He turned, still holding her hand, and called for the doctor. "I think she's waking up."

She came over and glanced at one of the monitors, smiling slightly to herself. She placed a hand on Jesina's forehead, using her fingertips to open the woman's eyes. Her pupils looked normal again. She slid her fingers down to Jesina's throat, checking her pulse. "Yes, I think she is." She glanced at Wes. "Did she say anything? Or move?"

"She said my name. At least, I think she tried to. And she squeezed my hand."

"That's a good sign, Major. See, I told you she'd be all right." The doctor rested her hand on the edge of the bed. "Jesina," she said softly. "Jesina, can you hear me?"

Jesina's head moved slowly and she moaned softly. "Oh, my head," she mumbled as her eyes fluttered again.

Doctor Shula smiled at Wes. "Talk to her. She's coming around." She patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?" Shouldn't she stay around if Jesina was going to wake up?

She turned back. "I'm just getting her a glass of water. Her throat's going to be dry."

"Oh." He hadn't thought of that. "Okay." He turned back to Jesina, squeezing her hand. "Come on, Jes. Wake up. Look at me."

She blinked again, eyes traveling around the room. Finally Wes' face came into focus. "Janson?" she murmured.

"Yeah, it's me." She tried to lift her head, but he gently pushed her down. He couldn't express how glad he was to hear her voice and see her awake and moving. "Don't sit up. You're pretty weak. You've been out for almost four days."

She let him push her down. "What happened?"

"How much do you remember?" he asked.

"I...um...Vayl. And Loran, I think. And Sarkin." She paused, frowning in confusion. "I don't really remember anything specific. What happened?" she asked again.

"Lonciez stunned Face and kidnapped you. Ooryl and I found you, but he'd given you some kind of drug or something. You've been unconscious for a few days." He paused when he heard the doctor return. "This is Doctor Shula. She's been taking care of you."

She handed Jesina a cup of water. "Glad to see you back with us, Colonel."

"Glad to be back," she said softly, "not that I knew I was gone."

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Achy. Kind of out of it."

The doctor nodded. "That's a result of being unconscious. You've been essentially comatose for the last few days. You'll feel better after a few hours, and some actual sleep." She paused and gestured toward a button by the bed. "If you need me, just press this. And your comlink is here," she pointed to the table near Jesina's right hand. She then turned to Wes. "You can stay a little longer, but she does need to rest." With that, she left.

"She seems nice," Jesina commented.

"She'd have to be, to have put up with Wedge and me." Wes offered her a grin.

Jesina nodded, managing a smile in return. "What did I miss?"

Wes sighed. Typical Jesina. Right to business. She'd been like that as a smuggler, and she'd been like that when she was in NRI. Of course she'd be that was as a squadron XO. Part of him wanted to tell her to get some rest, and then leave and send Wedge back to talk to her. He couldn't really justify doing that, though. "A lot." His grin disappeared and he started to count off on his fingers. "Lonciez did get off the ship, but we shot him down. Hekrig launched an attack on Elscol's command center. Piggy was killed, and Duryll."

He hesitated and, even in her less than clear mental state, Jesina knew something was wrong. "Who?"

Wes felt the tears spring back to his eyes. He'd managed to keep his emotions more or less in check when Wedge had told him about Hobbie, and he'd been pretty well controlled when he was talking to Inyri. But now, talking to Jesina, he didn't think he could do it anymore. "Hobbie."

She looked away as he said the name. She'd known, somehow. She'd seen the look on his face when she asked who it was. When the first tear slipped down his cheek, she'd known. But she hadn't been prepared to hear the name. She felt her own tears run down her face, but didn't bother wiping them away.

He moved from the chair to sit on the bed next to her as she turned back to face him. He slipped an arm around her and they sat there, a long time, just holding on to each other – almost literally for dear life.

---------------

Wedge looked up at the knock on the door. He'd had Iella close it when she left, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. He knew things were going to come to a head soon, and he was in no way mentally prepared for it. Duty called, though. "Come in," he called.

It was Wes. His face was pale and his eyes were red. He'd definitely been crying, and Wedge couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Wes cry. Thinking about it, he couldn't remember if he'd ever seen Wes cry. Before he could ask what was wrong – Jesina or Hobbie – Wes spoke, answering his question. "Jesina's awake."

So it was Hobbie. "How's she doing?"

"Tired, achy, her brain's a little foggy." Wes shrugged. "Shula said she'd expected that, though. She's sleeping now, and she should be better when she wakes up again. I guess being in a coma isn't as, I don't know, healing or something as really sleeping."

"That's good." He hesitated. Wes was clearly emotionally drained, and he wasn't sure if he should try to talk to him or just send him to bed.

Again, Wes took the choice out of his hands. "I told her about the command center raid, and about Hobbie."

"How'd she take it?" Wedge was glad Wes seemed to feel like talking. Maybe talking to Jesina had loosened him up a little.

"She cried. I cried."

Wow. Janson, openly admitting to a display of emotion other than giddy childish laughter? That was new. Not that Wedge was complaining. It seemed that Janson had begun to grow up – somewhat, at least. "You all right?"

Wes nodded. "I feel better than I did, at least." He paused, and studied Wedge. "Was Iella here?"

Wedge nodded. Where had that come from? "How did you know?"

"You looked like you're feeling a little better. I figured that she had something to do with it."

His CO nodded again. "We talked for a little while, and I did my own share of crying." He smiled. "Women are good for that."


	25. Engage

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 25: Engage

---------------

Acting on the conversation he'd had with Corran immediately after the briefing, Wedge had put a call through to Leia. She'd been out of the office, so he'd tried, alternately, Admiral Ackbar, General Bel Iblis, and General Cracken. All three of them had been otherwise engaged. Figuring they were all probably in the same place, he only left a message with Leia's secretary to have her contact him the second she got a chance.

She got back to him not long after Wes had left. "What's wrong, Wedge?"

"Are Hekrig's forces still there?"

"Yes. They haven't done anything at all. They haven't moved, or attacked, or even tried to communicate with us."

"Corran and I have a theory that I want to run by you."

"He's up and around?"

Wedge nodded. "He'll be able to fly with us. Jesina might be able to, too. She's awake – well, she's sleeping now, but it's actual sleep as opposed to a coma."

Leia looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear it. Now, what's your theory?"

He briefly related the conversation with Corran, ending with, "So, you need to be prepared for them to launch an attack there almost immediately after we blow the lab."

"You don't think he'll wait until his forces at Zhar reach Coruscant?"

He shook his head emphatically. "No. Because his people here will arrive at Coruscant right around the time we would. And I would guess that a Super Star Destroyer and two Imperial-class are backup that he'd rather you didn't have." Which is why we're going to try to leave early."

"Early?" she repeated. "How early?"

"As soon as Elscol gets a positive location for the lab, she's going to send a communication to the _Lusankya_, hold off on blowing it as long as she can, and we'll jump to hyperspace. That means leaving some of the Wraiths behind, but at that point we don't expect they'll be facing much Imperial resistance. And it's worth it if we can get there sooner than Hekrig's planning on."

"You're still days away, though," Leia pointed out.

"Yes, but Hekrig doesn't like to stay until he's backed into a corner. I don't think we'll be of much help to you, honestly, but I think we can at least keep him from battering you as long as he might be planning."

"Wedge, forgive me for saying that you aren't being very reassuring."

"I know…"

---------------

"Captain, they're deploying fighters."

Ackrand glanced over at the Ensign. "I want to speak to their captain."

After a moment the bridge communications officer said, "Go ahead, Captain."

"This is Captain Dehra Ackrand of the New Republic. You are in New Republic-held space and are ordered to recall all fighters and cease military action." It wasn't entirely true – Zhar was still a non-aligned world. But as far as she was concerned, the presence of Elscol Loro and several Wraiths on the ground and themselves in the system meant it was under New Republic jurisdiction.

"You have been misinformed, Captain," a clipped male voice replied. "Zhar is under Imperial control now. You are ordered to remove yourselves from Imperial space at once or we will engage."

She glanced quickly at her communications officer, motioning for him to end the transmission. Then, over the ship's intercom, she said, "This is Captain Ackrand. All pilots to your fighters. Standby to launch. Repeat, all pilots to your fighters. Standby to launch." She watched the communications officer flip the switch to transmit the order to the rest of the task force, and then commed Wedge herself. "General," she said when he answered, "they are engaging. Fighters are seven minutes to range."

---------------

Wedge reached the hangar in less than a minute at a flat run, just as Jesina did, with Wes right behind her. He frowned. They could certainly use her – even if they'd had Tycho and Hobbie they could have used her. Without them, they needed her. But she'd only been released from the med center six hours ago. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"I can fly."

He regarded her skeptically, but he really didn't have time to argue. "All right," he gave in. "But if you start feeling dizzy, sick – anything – you head back. Immediately. Understood?"

She saluted as she ran to her fighter. Janson went to follow, but Wedge caught his sleeve. "I'm switching her to six. I want you to keep an eye on her."

"You tell everyone else?" Janson asked, jogging beside him. This fight promised to be rough enough without any confusion about call signs.

"I will, once we're calling in. Tell Dia, though, will you?"

"All right. See you up there." They clasped hands before going their separate ways.

Jesina was already in her cockpit as he climbed up to his. "Jes, you're six for this party."

She frowned, knowing it was a protective maneuver on Wedge's part, but nodded. As she dropped into her cockpit, she saw the other members of her flight – Janson, Donos, and Passak – doing the same. Switching the comm unit to the frequency two flight generally used, she said, "All right, folks, there's been a slight change. Passak, you're flying seven with Donos. I'm six. Wedge wants Janson keeping an eye on me." She carefully injected a laugh into her voice.

Then she switched back to a squadron-wide frequency, knowing that Wedge was more than likely still in communication with the bridge. "All right, people, listen up. You all know the drill, but I want one thing clear. Any unnecessary heroics out there, and I'm the one you get to deal with." She paused. "That goes double for you, Horn," she added, eliciting laughter from the squadron.

"Alright people," Wedge's voice came over the comm. "One minute to launch. All Rogues report in."

"Rogue three, four lit." That was Ensa, who still blamed himself for Hobbie's death.

Face was next. There was an urgency to his voice that wasn't normally present. Jesina knew he wanted to be with his people on the ground. "Rogue four, good to go."

"Rogue five, ready to fly." Wes, his voice betraying the lethal efficiency he was capable of when it was necessary.

Her turn now. "Rogue six, four lit and green."

"Rogue seven, in the green." Dia sounded nervous. She'd been air backup on their mission to free Corran, but this was her first dogfight in a long time.

Donos' voice was empty of emotion. "Rogue eight, four lit and in the green."

"Rogue nine, set to fly." There was a touch of eagerness in Corran's voice. He, too, had been out of the cockpit for a while. Unlike Dia, however, he seemed anxious to get into the thick of things. Jesina wondered idly if this wasn't a little about payback for him.

The always proper Ooryl. "Rogue ten, four lit and in the green."

"Rogue eleven, ready to fly." Where Corran had sounded eager and Dia nervous, Inyri had a dangerous tone. She wanted to see these people dead, if she had to do it all herself.

"Rogue twelve, four lit." Gavin sounded calm. No anger, nervousness, nothing at all. That was good. Jesina was glad to know that at least one of their pilots was going on brains rather than emotion.

Then the deck officer's voice came through. "Rogue squadron, go ahead for launch."

"Launch by wing pairs on my mark," Wedge said. "Three, two, one, mark."

Jesina throttled forward. Despite the circumstances, it felt good to be back in the cockpit. She could see the enemy fighters as soon as she left the sanctity of the hangar. "I'm your wing, five."

"Gotcha."

Glancing around, she saw other squadrons launching, both from the _Lusankya_ and from the other ships in the task force. Wedge spoke over the comm. "Lock s-foils in attack position but do not engage until fired upon," he ordered.

Jesina keyed the comm. "Lead, I don't think waiting's such a good idea." Just then, she saw laser bolts glance off the shields of one of the A-wings from the _Freedom_. "Never mind, Lead. Two flight, on me."

She led the others around to the outskirts of the fight. At this point, only a few shots had been fired, but from the fighters pouring out of another Star Destroyer that had just appeared in system, it looked like it was about to get worse. Wedge had been joking when he'd asked Iline Jesmin if she wanted to lead twenty fighter squadrons into battle, but he hadn't been far off. They had something along the lines of twelve squadrons of fighter support, but she doubted it would be enough. "Lead, how long do we have to hang around?"

"Hopefully not too long." He broke off as he brought his fighter into a steep dive to evade an oncoming TIE-fighter. The TIE pilot overshot Wedge but made himself a perfect target for Face. A quick burst from his laser cannons sent the fighter, its pilot no longer among the living, spiraling away from them.

"You need a wing, Lead," she heard Face say.

"You worry about yourself, Four."

"Sure, Lead," Face replied.

"Six, you've got a tail," Donos told her.

"I don't—"

"On my mark, break hard to starboard," Janson interrupted. Despite lasting only a couple of seconds, it was one of the tensest moments in any battle – relying on a wingman and waiting while you really knew nothing about what was going on. "Now," Janson yelled. Jesina yanked the stick hard, bringing her fighter around in a dive to starboard. A moment later she felt her ship shake as the TIE that had been on her exploded. Janson's marksmanship at work.

"Thanks, five."

"No problem, six."

Just then Inyri cut in. "Two squadrons of defenders on approach, vector two-oh-nine."

"Sithspit," Wes muttered. "I hate these things. Can't we ban them or something?"

"Cut the chatter, five," Wedge broke in. "Defenders ninety seconds to range. Three flight, engage. Two, hang back. Three and Four on me."

He went into a dive, setting his fighter on a path to intercept the oncoming Destroyers. But just as quickly he broke off, leading a very confused Ensa and Face away from the fight. "What is he doing?" Jesina murmured.

She had her answer a moment later. "All fighters, prepare to make the jump to lightspeed."

Jesina gave a silent cheer. Elscol and the wraiths had found the base. That was good, but it meant Coruscant was in trouble. "Two flight, form up on me. And run!" She accelerated as much as she dared and copied Wedge's actions, leading Wes, Dia, and Donos away from the battle. She watched as the capital ships did the same, and saw them make the jump to hyperspace. "Lead?" she questioned Wedge on their private frequency.

"Lead them out, Six," Wedge told her. "I'm staying until everyone's out."

"Understood." She flipped to the task force frequency. "All _Lusankya_ fighters, sixty seconds to hyperspace. Repeat. All _Lusankya_ fighters, sixty seconds to hyperspace." Each capital ship was heading to slightly separate coordinates where their own squadrons would rendezvous with them. After picking up their fighters, the capital ships would rendezvous and they'd head back to Coruscant together.

"Key," she spoke to her astromech. Key was short for the name she'd used during her NRI tenure, Keyra. "Are those coordinates set?"

Yes, Jesina. Forty seconds to hyperspace. 

Forty seconds. Then, "Thirty seconds, people." She paused. "Twenty…ten…Mark." She pulled the hyperspace lever, more than glad to leave that situation behind. But not looking forward to what they'd find at Coruscant.


	26. Perfect – Gone Wrong

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 26: Perfect – Gone Wrong

---------------

Jesina walked through the _Lusankya's_ corridors, listening to the click of her boot heels on the floor. She felt like breaking something. A Corellian Corvette transporting an intelligence team she'd worked with many times had been recalled to Coruscant because of Hekrig and had been one of the first casualties of the Imperial onslaught. All aboard had been killed.

She didn't look up as Wes fell into step beside her. "You all right?"

Shaking her head she replied shortly, "No."

"We just got some good news," he offered.

"Did they manage to blow up the _Torment_?" she asked with a scowl. That was the good Admiral's flagship.

"No, but they did get Hekrig to back off."

She stopped short and turned to face him. "How?"

"By faking a transmission that the _Nebula_ task force would be at Coruscant within the next few hours." _Nebula_ was an _Imperial_-class Star Destroyer and the flagship of a force of four Mon Cal cruisers. It had earned a galaxy-wide reputation as a force to be reckoned with during a six-month period under the direct command of General Bel Iblis himself.

"Too bad it's not true. They'll be back, you know, and stronger than before."

"I know. But it's truer than you'd think. Apparently one of the _Mon Deralon's_ nav officers is an astronav genius. Found a route that cut fifty-two standard hours off their travel time. They get there that much earlier, Hekrig'll need that much stronger a force to bring against Coruscant. By the time he manages to strengthen himself that much, we'll be there."

And at that point, Hekrig would be hard pressed to ever match them. Four Mon Cals, an equal number of _Imperial_-class destroyers, and a _Victory_-class, added to the defenses already in place at the capital would form a formidable resistance.

But Jesina shook her head as she stopped outside her door and keyed in the code. "Then he'll hit something el—" Her words died as they were hurled against the opposite wall as an explosion tore through what had, until a moment ago, been her quarters.

---------------

"Distract me," Wedge said to Iella.

His wife looked at him, surprised, and blinked. "What?"

"Distract me," he repeated. "We still have almost nine days of hyperspace travel in which I can do nothing but read, write, and review casualty and status reports. If I don't find another way to occupy my time, I think I'll end up joining Tycho by the time I get back. Distract me," he said a third time.

Iella looked thoughtful. She understood where he was coming from. The whole squadron was still trying to deal with Hobbie's death, and Wedge still hadn't told Tycho, having decided that he wanted to deliver the bad news in person. He'd told her that he refused to reduce his friend's death to just another comm call or letter. And now Jesina was reeling from the news about the _Honor of Chandril_.

She shook her head, trying to clear if of these morbid thoughts. Then an idea popped into her mind and she smiled mischievously. "Perfect," she purred.

Wedge shifted uneasily. He didn't like it when she got that look on her face. Maybe asking her to distract him hadn't been such a good idea after all. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

"A little payback for Wes," she replied, putting on an innocent air. "For all the times he harassed you about me." She grinned. "Make Wes and Jesina a pet project." After all, the whole squadron could see what direction the two were headed in – except, maybe, them.

Wedge returned her grin. He knew he'd married this woman for a reason. Before he could respond, though, the quiet was shattered by the blare of an alarm. "That's a fire alarm," Wedge muttered, looking over at her as they both ran for the door.

He pulled out his comlink as they left the office, heading for the bridge. As soon as Captain Ackrand answered he asked, "What happened?"

"An explosion in…Sector Eight-Oh-Three," she replied, pausing. "Where your squadron is quartered, sir."

He barely heard Iella swear over the sound of the alarms. "Override the automatic fire doors," he ordered. "Don't let them seal unless the sensors say it's absolutely necessary."

"Yes, sir."

As they approached the turbolift, he saw the light indicating that it had shut down when the alarm activated. Turning sharply toward the nearest stairwell, they took the steps two at a time. "Find out where your people are," he barked at Iella, a little more harshly than he'd intended.

"I am," she answered. "Worry about yours."

He was. "All Rogues, report in," he spoke into his comlink.

Gradually, he heard from Ensa, Myn, Inyri, Ooryl, Corran, and Dia. Nothing from Wes, Jesina, Face, or Gavin. "Meet as close as possible to the starboard block of rooms," he ordered.

By the time they got there, Iella had heard from the handful of non-Wraith intelligence personnel she was supervising, and Wedge had still not heard from the last four Rogues. He saw Corran with his arm around Inyri, the two of them coughing loudly, choking on the dust. Ensa was leaning over Dia, who was sitting on the floor, a hand pressed against her right thigh. A few moments later Myn arrived, followed by Ooryl. From the looks of the last two, they hadn't been anywhere near the blast. "Anyone know anything about Jesina, Wes, Gavin, or Face?" Wedge asked as he approached.

"It looked like it was the Colonel's quarters," Corran answered, pointing down the corridor and coughing again.

Wedge counted the doors that weren't concealed by debris, and then pulled a datapad out of his pocket. The last door he could see was Inyri's, which was right next to Jesina's. Wes was across the corridor from her, and Gavin's was on the far side of Wes' room.

Iella was talking on her comlink, calling for a crew to come help them dig through the debris. Wedge turned back to his pilots. "Ensa, Myn, Ooryl, give me and Iella a hand. Corran, get yourself, Inyri, and Dia to the med center."

Corran opened his mouth to protest but was struck with another bout of coughing that just added to the cacophony from the alarm, and nodded. "Yes, sir," he managed, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees.

Inyri put a hand on her back, having recovered slightly more quickly than her squadron mate. "I'm all right, sir. And I think Gavin was in his quarters."

"Help them get to the med center," Wedge told her. "And if they clear you, come back. We'll probably still be able to use you."

As Inyri helped Dia stand and put an arm around her back, he turned back to the others again. Ooryl was already crawling across the rubble that had been the ceiling and wall, trying to get to Jesina and Wes' doors. Wedge nodded for Myn and Ensa to do the same. "Careful where you step," he warned. "In case any of them was in the corridor, you don't want to shift everything onto them."

Iella tiptoed across, working her feet through to the floor, moving things to the sides in an attempt to avoid hurting herself and also to make a more easier path back out. A moment later she barely heard a shout from Ooryl that he'd found Wes.

Wedge made his way to them as quickly as he dared, picking larger pieces out of the way and tossing them behind him. Wes was face down, pinned under a couple of panels at least two meters long, cracking and warping under the weight of the rest of the debris that rested on top. His clothes were torn and covered with dust, but he was breathing. With several hands working, they were soon able to pull him out, and saw that Jesina had been trapped beneath him, probably as a result of his own attempt to protect her from the blast – or the aftereffects. Both were unconscious.

Inyri returned just as they got him to the clear floor, with Myn carrying Jesina behind them. A medical crew was following her and quickly took over from the Rogues to care for the injured pilots. "A search crew is coming up the other side," she told Wedge.

"Good." He consulted his datapad again. Both Face and Dia had quarters up here, at the far end of the corridor. "Ensa, where was Dia when the explosion happened?" He figured they'd probably been together, considering he'd been helping her when he and Iella had arrived.

"We were leaving my quarters, sir," he answered. The Twi'lek looked distressed, and Wedge guessed that it was due to a resurgence of his guilt over Hobbie's death, brought on by not having kept Dia from getting hurt.

"Had she said anything about Face?" he asked.

"No, sir."

"Shavit," Wedge muttered. He looked up and saw Inyri following the path Iella had made toward Gavin's door. "Inyri," he called.

She looked back. "Help me!" she yelled back.

He couldn't hear her over the alarm that was _still_ blaring overhead, though Myn apparently had as he set off after her. "Turn that damn thing off," he hollered into his comlink. A moment later they were rewarded with silence.

He went to yell Inyri's name again but stopped when he saw her brace herself and aim a solid kick at the bent door to Gavin's quarters. Looking inside, she saw Gavin and Face. "They're both here!" she yelled, slipping through the narrow opening she'd created and dropping a half-meter to the floor of her wingman's quarters.

Face was sprawled, leg bent unnaturally underneath his body, a couple of meters from the door. A duffel that had probably been sitting on the bed until it was shaken off by the explosion, was lying on his chest. He was awake, but clearly disoriented. Probably concussed, she figured, looking at the growing bruising on his forehead and the right side of his face.

Gavin was half on the cot, half off. From the look of it, he'd probably been standing when the explosion had happened and had fallen forward, striking his head on the wall. When she moved him slightly, she reconsidered her assessment. Given the gash on his forehead, it looked like he'd hit his head on the corner of the cabinet, and probably rolled onto the bed after losing consciousness.

Electing not to move either of them again, she headed back to the door, moving Gavin's belongings out of the way as she went, to make it easier to move the two men. She pulled on the bowed door, but it wouldn't budge anymore. Looking up at Myn, who was slightly above her because he was standing on about a half-meter of debris that had once been the ceiling, she said, "I can't move them myself."

"You wouldn't be able to get Gavin out even if you could," he answered. "Even I'm too big to fit through that hole. The rescue crew is coming. Just sit tight." He looked away from her for a moment and turned back, reaching through the opening she'd gone through and handing her a medical kit. "Do what you can," he said helplessly. "Iella's coming," he added as he saw the NRI agent heading his way and moved back to allow her entrance.

Inyri was leaning against the wall when Iella climbed through. "You okay?" she asked the younger woman, concerned.

"Tell me he's going to be okay," Inyri pleaded, eyes closed.

Iella walked over to Gavin, pressing the tips of her fingers to the man's wrist. His pulse was weak, but steady. "He'll be all right," she told Inyri, taking the first aid kit from her hands. She fervently hoped she was right. She didn't think Inyri would be able to handle it if anything happened to Gavin, especially so soon after Hobbie.

She knelt next to Gavin, dabbing antiseptic onto the gash on his forehead and covering it with a large bacta patch. "Inyri, could you check out Face?" she asked softly, blocking out the noise of the rescue crew working to weld the door off of the wall.

It took a second but Inyri nodded even though the older woman couldn't see her. She moved to kneel beside Face and copied Iella's movements. "He's breathing funny," she said. "I think he needs oxygen."

Iella glanced over, taking in the duffel bag. "He's probably got some broken or cracked ribs…maybe a collapsed lung, but I hope not."


	27. Nowhere to Go

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 27: Nowhere to Go

---------------

Inyri helped guide the foot of the repulsor stretcher that Face lay on. The rescue crew had made short work of the mess blocking the door and in no time the medical crew was allowed entrance. They fitted them both with proper oxygen masks – discarding the portable one Inyri had gotten for Face – and performed a quick diagnosis of both men. Face did, indeed, have a collapsed lung and, in addition to his broken leg, they thought he had several broken or cracked ribs. A severe concussion, as well, though not as severe as Gavin's.

Gavin's head injury was his most serious ailment, though the medics expressed concern over his decreased blood pressure and heart rate. His anxious squadron mates were told, though, that they'd have to wait for any additional information.

After both had been removed from the room, Inyri took Donos' proffered hand and climbed out herself. Dusting off her clothes, she moved out of the way as Donos helped Iella out. "How are they?" she asked, nodding toward Wes and Jesina.

Donos shook his head. "Still unconscious. They're just about to move them down to the Med Center." He sighed. "Looks like they'll be in bacta for a while."

Inyri nodded and then heard Iella ask the question they'd all been wondering. "How did this happen?"

Inyri shook her head. "I just heard the explosion, and then the alarm. I don't know what triggered it."

Wedge approached them. "The Captain is sending up a couple of explosives technicians in a few minutes. We'll just have to wait and see what they find out."

"And suppose they find out it wasn't an accident?" Iella asked.

Wedge shook his head. "I'm not getting involved in it. There are military police on board. They can do their jobs." He sighed. "All I care about right now is making sure that everyone alive now is alive nine days from now on Coruscant."

"I don't see how you can stay out of it," Iella protested.

She took a step back when she saw his expression turn from concern to anger. "Duryll, Piggy, Elassar." He paused for a moment. "Hobbie. I've lost four people – four good friends – on this assignment. Not to mention the losses we took in the battle over Zhar. And I'll be damned if I'm going to lose any more. You think we should look into it, do it yourself." He turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

Inyri rested a hand on Iella's shoulder. "He's…just upset. I'm sure he didn't—"

Iella pulled away and faced her. "I'm fine. He's right. None of you should get anywhere near this. I'm just worried that if we don't try to find out how this happened, we could have more casualties on our hands." She bit her lip and turned to go, following after her husband.

The remaining Rogues stood around for a second, shocked by their CO's uncharacteristic outburst, then slowly dispersed – not that they had anywhere in particular to go.

---------------

Wedge was already in the med center when Inyri went down about an hour later to see how her injured squadron mates were doing. She wanted to come down earlier, but knew she'd probably end up in the way. It had taken all her willpower to wait this long. "How are they?" she asked him softly.

"Let's just say we'd better not run into any trouble between here and Coruscant. None of them will be able to fly anytime soon."

"They'll be all right, though, right?"

He nodded. "All four of them are in bacta right now." He paused. "They put bone knitters in to repair the damage to Face's knee and his ribs, and they began repairs to his lung. Iella was right – it was collapsed. They're also using bone knitters for Gavin's skull. He has a pretty good fracture, though there was no way you or Iella could have figured that out. Other than that, he's got some minor cuts."

She knew it was a preemptive attempt to keep her from feeling guilty, but it failed. She didn't say anything, though, because he went on to talk about Wes and Jesina. "Jesina's actually more or less all right, thankfully. She's got some bruised ribs, a couple cracked, and inhaled a lot of smoke and dust. There are a couple of hairline fractures in her left leg and she's pretty bruised all over, and she's got a minor concussion." He shook his head. "Considering how we found her, she was lucky. Wes took the brunt of it."

"How is he doing?"

"A skull fracture to rival Gavin's," Wedge began, but stopped when Inyri snickered in spite of herself.

"I'm sorry. It was just, as soon as you said that, all I could think about is all the times we've called Janson hard-headed. I don't think we can say that any more."

Wedge cracked a smile and shook his head. Secretly, he was relieved Inyri was able to find some humor in the situation. She'd been closed off to everyone except Wes since Hobbie's death. But then, thinking about what else was wrong with Wes, he sobered. "His whole body's going to be black and blue for a while. But that's the least of it. He has serious internal bleeding, both lungs were collapsed, and several broken ribs. His right knee was shattered, and he's got compound fractures in both his left arm and leg. He's got a serious concussion, and they don't expect him to regain consciousness anytime soon, though he will at some point. The same with Gavin," he added, knowing that would be her next question.

She took a step back and sat down on the chair. "I want to go home," she murmured. "I feel like a child, but it's true. I just want to go home."

"I think we all do." He paused. "How angry is Iella?"

She thought for a moment about letting him squirm, but shook her head. "She's not angry. She's just worried that someone else will get hurt if we don't try to find out how it happened."

---------------

Wedge sat down at the table in the conference room nearest the med center. "What do you have?"

The technician held up a small device, charred black over the entire surface. "It was definitely deliberate. This is all that's left of the bomb that destroyed Colonel Dreis' quarters. It was wired to the door, to go off as it opened. It was more than likely intended to reduce just that section of rooms to rubble. There'd have been a lot more damage – and your people probably wouldn't have lived to make it into bacta – except that whoever created it didn't want there to be a fire. For whatever reason. It wasn't incendiary."

Wedge frowned. "How do you do that?"

"It's complicated. The easiest way I can explain it is to equate it to a minor shock wave. Energy waves tore through the room, bringing everything down around it."

Iella had slipped into the room unnoticed, and so Wedge was startled when she spoke. "We have a serious problem, Wedge," she said softly.

He glanced at her and then looked back at the technician. "Let me know if you find out anything else, lieutenant. Dismissed." He turned to his wife. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"You should be," she replied sternly, but her smile softened the words.

He returned the expression but sobered quickly. "What's the problem?"

"A couple maintenance techs saw someone walking away from Jesina's door. They only got a look at him from the side, but they gave me a pretty good description. On a hunch, I showed them a holo." She paused. "Guess who?"

He shook his head. "No." Vayl Lonciez back from the dead. Terrific.

"Oh yes. He's not dead."

"Then who is?"

"My guess? No one. Wes received no communication from that shuttle before he blew it up. And no one actually saw him get in and not get out. I think it was a decoy. He has the training for it. And he has the training to set up that bomb. Trust me. I've worked with him before."

"What I don't understand is why," Wedge muttered. "Face said that Lonciez was obsessed with Jesina. The kidnapping thing I could understand. But why try to kill her? There's no way that bomb could possibly have been for anyone else."

"I know. If he's been around all this time, there's every possibility he's been watching her the whole time. And if he has, he'd know that she and Wes have gotten very close. It's a classic stalker syndrome. He can't have her, so no one can."

"You've got a lot of nuts working for you, you know that?"

"They don't work for me," she protested. "I just get stuck working with them all."

Wedge leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. Things just kept getting better and better. He thought back to what Inyri had said about Iella's reaction to his earlier frustration. She was right. If he didn't do anything, chances were that people were going get hurt. Namely Jesina. And possibly Wes, if Lonciez set his sights on him as well.

"I want to get them off this ship," he said suddenly.

Iella frowned. "You want to move them to the _Valor_?" _Valor_ was one of the _Imperial_-class vessels in the task force, the next down from _Lusankya_.

He nodded. "There's no way I can see to catch Lonciez. We thought we had him once and he slipped through our fingers. He'll just do it again. And who knows what other surprises he'll come up with for us. It'll be easier – and safer – for everyone involved if we just get all the Rogues off the _Lusankya_."

"I presume you mean Face and Dia, too?" Iella asked.

He frowned at her. "Of course." He'd been looking at the two lone Wraiths as Rogues since they'd taken on Rogue designations for the battle over Zhar. The rest of the pilots had as well.

She held up a hand. "Just checking. Although I'd be willing to bet Face wouldn't mind having a shot at Lonciez himself."

"Face won't be having a shot at anyone for a while." He told her everything he'd told Inyri. She just shook her head, and he sighed.

"Do me a favor? Find out how soon everyone can be moved? I'll have the captain send a message out to the task force and have them work out some safe coordinates to come out of hyperspace to transfer everyone over."


	28. Going Home

**Note: Go back and read Chapter 23 Good News and the Not So Good because I just noticed that for some reason it didn't load right. How come none of you told me? scolds readers :) Anyway, it's a REALLY important chapter if you want to know what's going on.**

**Note 2: I will be revising and reposting this on the boards at under the name JesinaDreisafter I have finished its prequels, A New Path and Bitter Reunion. Those of you reading all of them have probably noticed that there's a lot happening in those that isn't incorporated into this one. Iwill most likely not be reposting it here, but I encourage you all togo there. The authors there are wonderful, and there are a number of Rogue/Wraith fics as well as the standard Han, Leia, Luke, Mara, and NJO.**

**RowenaR:** I try to update quickly. Right now I am updating about every three days. And I am well aware that I am not nice to Wes and Jes. If you are reading the other stories, you will know that without a shadow of a doubt.

**ninjaturtle: **I agree, but it's nice to see a guy who isn't afraid to cry.

**Nikki: **Here is some more for you.

---------------

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 28: Going Home

---------------

Wedge stood on the bridge of the _Valor_, looking out at Coruscant. The city-planet hung against a black backdrop dotted by the occasional star. It looked so peaceful from out here. Looking down on it one could hardly believe it was the bustling, crime-ridden capital world.

"Glad to be home?" He turned to see Jesina standing a few meters away. She'd been up and around the last couple days – the only of the four injured to be released from the Med Center yet. She was more or less recovered, but he still wished she'd rest.

"Except that being home means telling Tycho about Hobbie," he admitted.

"I could do it," she said softly.

"No. It's my responsibility."

"No, it isn't. Hobbie was as much my friend, Wes' too, as he was yours. Your responsibility is to report to command, not to break the bad news to friends."

He didn't answer, just changed the subject. "Any word from _Lusankya_ about Lonciez?"

"No." She sighed. "I doubt they'll ever find him."

"What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, then shrugged. "There's not much I can do. I'm certainly not going to let his lack of sanity dictate how I live my life. I'd end up just as crazy as he is."

He nodded thoughtfully. She had a point. The Rogues had made more than their fair share of enemies in their time, but they'd never let paranoia run their lives. He couldn't expect her to do any different. "Just do me a favor? Don't take any stupid chances, all right?"

She smiled, coming closer and putting a hand on his arm. "I won't."

"You been down to the med center lately?"

Jesina nodded. "I just came from there. Face will be able to fly down, provided he goes to bed right after. They expect Wes and Gavin to regain consciousness soon, but they'll both have to be transported down to Coruscant." She looked out over the planet. "If Hekrig comes back too soon, we'll be flying short."

"We'll be flying short no matter what," he pointed out.

She nodded again, knowing he was referring to Tycho. "Have you heard anything about his condition?"

"I got a message from Winter a few days back," he told her. "You were still in the med center, and by the time you were out, it wasn't in the front of my mind anymore. He's improved a lot in the, what, four months since he was admitted. Might be able to be released soon."

"Five," she corrected gently. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

He nodded. "When things go wrong, time always seems to move so much faster."

She looked back out toward Coruscant. "It certainly does."

---------------

Wedge walked out of the debriefing after six hours without seeing anyone other than Admiral Ackbar, General Cracken, General Bel Iblis and the rest of the squadron. He was tired, hungry, and not a little unnerved.

He glanced at Jesina, who was leaning heavily on him. The session had been emotionally draining for her – he'd finally gotten to see just how much of a toll Lonciez had taken on her. Not to mention that, since she hadn't fully recovered, it had been physically draining as well. Force! It had been physically draining on him, and he hadn't recently been sick or injured.

"You get the feeling…" he began once they were a short distance away from the room and the command staff still inside.

"Yeah. He knows something," she answered, referring to Cracken. "And as soon as I've gotten food and sleep, I'm going to find out what it is."

"Just so long as you get some rest," Wedge warned.

She nodded. "You going to talk to Tycho tonight?"

He glanced at his chrono. Fourteen hundred hours. "Yeah. I'll get something to eat on the way."

"I'll go with you."

Wedge shook his head. "No. Go home and go to bed. You need it. You can see him later."

"I should be there now."

"Get some sleep," he admonished. "You know he'd say the same thing."

---------------

Tycho looked up as the door slid open and saw one of the orderlies. "Mister Celchu, you have a visitor."

He stood slowly, wondering who it might be. He knew it wasn't Winter – she'd told him that she'd be busy this afternoon. He presumed whatever had dragged her away had to do with Hekrig, and hoped that the Imperial Admiral hadn't returned. She'd kept him filled in on what was going on outside the hospital walls as much as Doctor Lur had allowed her. She'd gradually increased the amount of time Tycho got to spend with Winter – and the amount of information his wife was allowed to give him – as his recovery had progressed.

He followed the orderly down the sterile corridors to a visiting room and stopped short when he saw who was inside. Wedge. He swallowed hard. He'd seen Wedge since his hospitalization – the night of the dinner for the Adumari delegation. But his friend hadn't had the opportunity to visit him in the hospital, and he'd been secretly glad of that.

But Wedge was here now and there was no sense in hiding. Holding his head high, he walked in and hugged his CO. "It's good to see you back." He didn't say that he was surprised to see him alone.

Wedge must have noticed anyway. "The others would have come, but, well, circumstances intervened."

Wedge watched as Tycho sat down after glancing over his shoulder. Wedge guessed his friend was grateful that the orderly had left. Winter had told him that because Tycho had been doing better, he didn't have to be monitored all hours of the day, and he was even allowed to wander the halls on occasion.

He could believe it. He remembered how the other man had looked the last time he'd seen him. He'd gained back much of the weight he'd lost – not that he looked entirely healthy, yet, but Wedge guessed that was probably because he was used to seeing the Tycho that worked out fairly regularly. Being in the hospital had caused him to lose some of his muscle tone, though that would surely come back with time.

His coloring was better, too – he was no longer so pale. He just _looked_ healthier – and sounded it as well. His voice wasn't as weak and strained as it had been.

But what struck Wedge the most were his friend's eyes. The emptiness that had been there from the night that Tycho had gone into the hospital to the night of the state dinner was gone. The sadness was still there, but the vacant look that had worried them all so much was gone.

"What kind of circumstances?" Tycho's voice brought him out of his reverie.

"To begin with, Jesina has a stalker," Wedge said, sighing. "Her ex-partner from NRI. Long story short, we thought he was dead but he wasn't. He tried to kill her by rigging a bomb to the door of her quarters. She, Wes, Gavin, and Face Loran were caught in it. They're all going to be fine, but some faster than others." He briefly described their injuries and told him about their current conditions.

Tycho shook his head. "Sounds like I missed all the fun."

Wedge inwardly groaned. Every second he waited this got harder and harder. "Not really," he said softly.

Tycho stared, his stomach suddenly feeling like a block of ice. "Who?" he asked.

In the moment before he answered, Wedge wondered if this was how Janson had felt telling Jesina when she woke up. Probably, he decided, as he said gently, "Hobbie. Winter knows, but I asked her not to say anything. I wanted to tell you in person."

Tycho swallowed hard and thought back to about a week ago. Winter had come to visit, and looked like she'd been crying.

"_Winter?" he asked slowly. "What's wrong?"_

_She shook her head. "It's nothing. Just, a lot of things going on." She gave him a wan smile. "Too much stress, that's all."_

_He frowned. Winter didn't cry very often, and so he had a hard time believing that it was nothing more than stress. Pushing wouldn't get him anywhere, though. Especially if it was something Ishana had told Winter she couldn't' talk about. He had to try once more, at least, even though he expected he'd get nowhere with it. "Are you sure?" he asked gently._

"_I'm sure," she replied, though she didn't look it._

"How?" was all he could manage to say.

"He was with Elscol on the ground, leading some of the Rogues and Wraiths. They came under fire and he was hit twice. There was nothing anyone could do."

Tycho folded his hands in front of him, taking several deep breaths, counting to five in between. He looked away and Wedge reached over, putting his hand to the side of Tycho's face. Gently, he forced Tycho to face him. Winter had warned him about this reaction, and told him what to do. Apparently, Doctor Lur had told Winter that it was his way of withdrawing, and that was something she wanted to avoid. "You don't really think Winter didn't tell me what to expect, do you?" he asked gently. "You're not going to do that with me here. Come on, Tych."

The Alderaanian gave him a weak grin. "I should have known," he said ruefully.

"Yeah," Wedge agreed, offering him an encouraging smile, though he really didn't feel like smiling.

"I don't believe it," he admitted after a moment. "I…" He shook his head. "I don't believe it," he said again.

"I didn't either. I wasn't around when it happened. I was on _Lusankya_. Jesina was in a coma – more of the long story – and Wes had just recently recovered. Inyri and Gavin had to take over. I'm putting in for commendations for them both, by the way." He paused. "Did you know that Inyri and Hobbie were together?"

"I suspected," he admitted, "but I believed them when they said they weren't, especially considering what happened between them on Hoth. So they really were?"

Wedge nodded in the affirmative. "Oh yes. He asked her to marry him the night we left Coruscant."

Tycho rested his chin on his hand. "Oh, wow."

"Yeah. I couldn't believe it."

"How is she?" Tycho asked, both anxious to talk about someone's feelings – anyone's feelings – other than his own, and genuinely concerned about her.

"Better than I expected. She and Wes seem to have bonded over it – he and Gavin are the only ones she'll really talk to. But then when both of them were hurt in the explosion, she started to shut down again. Now that both of them are coming along well, she's doing better too."

"You think Hekrig will be back?" Tycho asked, changing the subject. His mind needed time to process the news and he was glad that Wedge let him redirect the conversation.

"No doubt in my mind. Wes and Gavin won't be able to fly, though." Then he shrugged. "We've gotten used to flying shorthanded, though."

Tycho looked away but looked back before Wedge could react. "I'm sorry."

Wedge shook his head. "Don't be. You needed this." Then he paused. "Tycho, if you were able to return to the squadron, do you think you would? Have you given it any thought?"

"I've considered it," Tycho replied. "But I really don't know."


	29. A Risk

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 29: A Risk

---------------

"What's up?"

Wedge looked up to see Jesina standing in the open doorway. "Good, you made it."

"What did I make, Wedge?"

"Cracken is taking off in a few hours for Force knows where. I still think he knows something that he hasn't told anyone, and I wanted to talk to him before he left. Thought you might want to join me."

"Definitely." This whole thing hadn't sat well with her from the beginning and if Cracken had any responsibility for the disaster that had been their last assignment, she wanted to know about it.

Wedge stood and they left the office together. "You don't expect him to just volunteer the information, do you?"

"No. Which is why I'm going to tell him that I already know."

She stopped walking and turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I don't," he clarified. "But if we both say we know he was involved, he'll believe it. He'll have no reason not to, especially considering he knows how good you are."

"What, exactly, are you going to say?"

"That I know he knows what happened to Corran."

Jesina's eyes widened, and she grabbed his arm, pulling him into the nearest available room – a cramped supply closet. Turning on the lights she stared at him. "Are you crazy?"

He shook his head. "No, Jes. I'm done. The whole situation with Corran has bothered me from the day it happened. I refuse to believe that he knows nothing about it. And I once I get into his office, I won't leave until he tells me."

"Wedge, this man can make you disappear," she protested. "I _know_ that you know that."

"Which is why Leia knows I'm planning on having this conversation. As do Tycho, Winter, Corran, Mirax, Wes, and Iella." He ticked the names off on his fingers. "I'm not stupid, Jes. I know how he operates. And I'm tired of always being on the defensive with him. He can play that part for a change."

She sighed and opened the door to the closet. Stepping out and turning off the lights, she muttered under her breath, "I really hope you know what you're doing."

---------------

Wedge and Jesina stood side by side in front of Cracken's door – inside his office. Cracken regarded them with mildly disguised disdain. "I have a ship to catch," he told them.

"Then I suppose you'll be missing it," Wedge said. He fought to keep his voice level. He wasn't, as he'd told Jesina, stupid. He knew he was taking a chance. They both were.

"What do you want?" the Intelligence Director asked wearily.

Jesina took a step forward. "We want to know what happened to Corran Horn."

Cracken gave them a long-suffering sigh. "He was taken prisoner and rescued. You are, after all, the ones who brought him back."

"Don't play us for fools, General," Wedge spoke up. "You know better than that. I know you know more than you're telling about what happened the day his imposter tried to shoot me down. I know you know when he was kidnapped, and who replaced him. Now I want to know what you know."

Cracken met each of their gazes in turn, eyes narrowing a little more every second. "You know nothing," he finally responded, though he seemed slightly shaken.

"Do you want to bet on that?" Jesina asked. "Because I'm fairly certain that the Inner Council would be quite interested in what we have to say. Speaking with Mirax Horn, Tycho Celchu, and Corran Horn himself would probably also be enlightening for them." She kept her voice even, and Wedge remained silent. Jesina was far batter equipped for this battle than he was, even if he was the driving force behind it.

The Intelligence man's confidence had clearly been struck a lethal blow. The threat of going to the Council – a Council full of people who already didn't quite trust him – had done the trick. He set down the briefcase in his hand and sat down, sighing. "You're taking quite a risk, General."

"It's not a risk," Wedge answered. "What happened to Corran Horn?"

Cracken's eyes narrowed. Given their determination, even were he to remain silent, they'd find out what they wanted to know somehow. Ten years of directing Jesina Dreis convinced him of that. As did ten years of battling back and forth with Wedge Antilles.

"Two weeks before the incident over Coruscant that preceded Colonel Celchu's hospitalization, it came to my attention that Corran Horn had disappeared – taken as a prisoner by Hekrig's agents," he began.

Jesina and Wedge looked at each other, incredulous. "How did we not know anything about this?" she asked him. "How did Mirax not know?"

In answer, Wedge shook his head. "This ought to be good," was all he said, his voice taking on a dangerous tone as he looked back at the other General.

"Because within two hours, I had a replacement for him. I knew even then bits and pieces about what was happening on Zhar, and we couldn't afford to have your routine disrupted if you were to be effective there."

Jesina stepped forward, leaning as far over her former boss' desk as she could. "'We' couldn't afford to disrupt our routine? Who is 'we'? Who did you talk to about this?" She straightened and shook her head, anger and disgust in her eyes.

"It wasn't Leia, or Bel Iblis, or Ackbar. Because they wouldn't have let Wedge, and me, and Tycho, and Iella, and Mirax – and their CHILDREN – go through this. You talked to no one, again. For the last ten years, you've been going along, doing as you damn well please, and ignoring the people whose lives you destroy along the way."

Her eyes narrowed to slits and she glanced over her shoulder at Wedge before looking back to Cracken. She probably shouldn't say this, and she'd probably regret it later, but she had to.

"Well, you screwed up this time. You, on your own authority, put someone into Rogue Squadron who tried to kill the commanding officer." The volume of her voice was increasing. "And it's going to come back to hurt you. Because I'm going to do everything I can to end your career." She paused. "By this time next week, either you'll be gone, or I will be."

Jesina turned back around to face Wedge and saluted. "Permission to be excused, sir?"

Wedge returned the salute. This wasn't exactly how he'd wanted this conversation to go, but he couldn't blame her for her outburst. Truthfully, he wanted to do the same. "Dismissed." As he spoke, he looked into her eyes. The angry fire was gone, and she actually looked like she was about to cry.

After she was gone, Cracken faced Wedge. "I'm surprised. You have quite a reputation for dressing down your people when the situation calls for it."

"You're surprised at what?" Wedge snapped, venom practically dripping from his words.

"That you let her get away with that."

"Of course I did. In fact, I'm going to back her on this all the way. You've played with this squadron too many times, General, and I can think of any number of people – both inside and outside New Republic service – who are sick and tired of it, and will be glad to see someone finally trying to do something about it. Jesina won't be leaving."

"Have it your way, General."

"I will." Wedge wanted to know more about just how Cracken had replaced Corran so quickly – the whole thing unnerved him, and made him wonder if the man somehow had doubles of all of them waiting in the wings until they could be of use to him. But he was too angry now to listen to him any longer, not that he expected Cracken to say anything more.

He took his leave of the Intelligence Director, eyes cold as ice as, at the same time, they blazed with anger.

---------------

Wes, on a suggestion from Wedge, walked into the lounge in the lower levels of the palace. Sure enough – as his CO had predicted – Jesina was sitting at a table nursing a glass of dark liquid – one of three glasses, two of them empty, on the table in front of her. "Hitting the whiskey kind of hard, aren't you?"

"I think I just torpedoed my career. And, possibly, my life." Her voice grew slightly higher toward the end and Wes could detect just the slightest slur to her words.

He sat down, moving his chair close to her and taking her hand. "Yeah, Wedge told me what happened." He paused. "Look, Jes. Wedge is going to back you up on this. And so will the rest of us. Cracken went too far this time. Wedge has already talked to Iella about it, and they're going to talk to Leia right now."

"He replaced Corran in two hours," Jesina said softly. She might be slightly drunk, but she was still sober enough to know to keep her voice down. "He can do the same to us. You know that."

"Yeah, I know. But he'll have a lot of people to replace. Especially since we just got word that the Wraiths are in system and Iella gave them a direct order to report to her – and no one else – once they're planet side."

"What, exactly, are they going to do?"

"I don't know, but Wedge wants us to meet as his place in one hour."

She downed the last of the glass she was holding and raised her hand for another. "I plan on being very drunk at that time."

"I bet you do." Wes caught the bartender's attention and shook his head. Then, drawing Jesina to her feet, said, "Let's get you some caf."

He put an arm around her and she leaned heavily on him. The alcohol was really starting to kick in. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he tossed a few credits on the bar and led her out of the lounge.

She looked up at him once they were outside. "I love you, Wes."

He wondered briefly if she'd say that sometime when her words weren't slurred and she could walk on her own. "I love you too," he replied, leading her toward the exit.


	30. Conspiracy Theory

**A** **Note: When I revise this I will be renaming it. I was going to go with "Demons of the Past" but there's already a story with that title on the board I want to post this on. So, I am asking for suggestions along those lines. Any assistance will be appreciated.**

---------------

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 30: Conspiracy Theory

---------------

Wedge was glad when Corran was one of the first to arrive. It gave him a chance to talk to him one-on-one and fill him in on what he and Jesina had gotten out of Cracken. "Come on back," he told the Jedi, leading him to the study he and Iella shared.

Once they were alone, Corran looked at him uneasily. "What? Is something wrong?"

"Jesina and I found something out that you should know. Cracken knew when you went missing and didn't tell anyone. He replaced you with a double – and that was the man who tried to shoo me down." He watched the Corellian carefully, looking for any sign of anger that might spiral out of control. He remembered clearly Tycho's account of Corran's initial foray into the Dark Side months earlier, and his own recollection of the man's slide on Hoth played out clearly in his mind.

Corran met Wedge's eyes briefly. "I'm not going to do anything, Wedge. I'm angry, but I'm not about to lose control."

Wedge frowned. "I'm sorry. I don't distrust you, Corran. It's just…"

"I know," he answered before Wedge could go on. He sank down into a chair, a thousand thoughts running through his mind, not the least of which was the – controlled – desire to cause Cracken the kind of pain the man had caused his family and friends. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked up wearily. "Where does he get the nerve?"

Wedge shook his head. "I wish I knew."

"Something has to be done."

"That's why Iella, Leia and I wanted everyone here. We want to do something about Cracken, once and for all. Leia's going to ask for his resignation, but she wants to figure out a way to ensure that he doesn't turn this around on any of us."

---------------

Wes got Jesina more or less sobered up – she wasn't quite as intoxicated as he'd thought, which made him even more confused over what she'd said. But he didn't have time to worry about that right now. "Sorry we're late," he apologized.

"I was a little upset," Jesina said vaguely. Without thinking she'd moved a little closer to Wes, as if he offered her some sense of security.

Wedge took in her flushed cheeks and reddened eyes and had a few thoughts as to their cause, but didn't say anything. There would be time for that later. He just shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You haven't really missed anything. Mara was just about to tell us why she just had Leia assign armed guards to Tycho and Winter." He glanced over his shoulder and cast a frown at the redhead as he motioned the two inside.

"Mara's here?" Wes asked, remaining in the entryway for a moment.

"Yeah, she brought the Wraiths back from Zhar." He shrugged. "Guess she didn't figure there was much to worry about once our presence there was pretty well-known." He stepped back and closed the door.

"Who else is here?" Wes asked, keeping his voice low though he didn't know why.

"Iella and Leia, of course. All the Rogues and Wraiths. And Pash, and Kirney."

"Pash?" Jesina echoed. "Wedge, that doesn't seem…"

Wedge held up a hand to silence her. "He came to me with it. He was bothered by the whole thing and confronted his dad, not long after we did. Cracken told him everything."

"The man slipping in his old age?" Wes asked, skeptical. "He didn't used to be that easy." Something about this didn't sit right with him. He couldn't picture Cracken going soft. But neither could he imagine that, if he was going to lie to them, he'd have given Wedge this story.

Jesina shook her head. "I think he just knows he blew it this time. Not only did he play with us, he nearly got Wedge killed. If they wanted to push it, he could be considered an accessory to...something." She shrugged. "Sorry, I can't think right now."

"That's all right. Come on; they're probably wondering if I was kidnapped." He headed into the living room and they followed. Jesina sat on a recliner and Wes perched on the arm while Wedge returned to his stool by the wall.

Mara shot him a slightly annoyed look but started over. "I was saying, there's a new, for lack of a better word, organization called the Alderaanian Loyalists. Some of them are survivors of Alderaan, many of them aren't. They all lost family or friends when Alderaan was destroyed. And they all are loyal to the Empire and blame the Rebellion for Alderaan's destruction. And they specifically have a problem with you, Celchu, and his wife."

"Where have they been for the last decade?" Leia asked, frowning. "I've never heard of any such group."

"Nonexistent," Mara replied. "Everything Karrde has points to it being a propaganda machine for Hekrig. But, even if propaganda is their sole purpose, they do exist and they are something you have to worry about. Especially considering Karrde picked up on something suggesting that you three are their primary targets. And that they already have people on the ground here."

"This is unbelievable," Jesina muttered. "How can they use this against us after all this time?"

"Easily," Leia said. "They do have a point. If my father and I hadn't been so involved, Alderaan would never have been made a target. It would have been some other world. And while most of us see that as just as bad, a lot of people won't. It's the 'better them than me' mentality. It's just as prevalent today as ever before."

"So, what do we do?" Face asked. "And, on a slightly different note, is this the reason we're here?" He gestured toward the rest of his unit.

Iella elected to ignore his first question. "No, this isn't why we wanted you here. The reason for that was because of something that Jesina and Wedge found out. And Pash, as well, for that matter."

Face frowned and glanced at them each in turn. "What's going on?"

Leia started to reply, but the chime of her comlink interrupted her. "Excuse me," she murmured, rising. "Start without me, please."

Wedge had just finished relating the conversation he and Jesina had had with Cracken when Leia returned. "Wedge, Pash? Could I speak with you for a moment?" Her face was pale and she looked…stunned was probably the best word.

The two men exchanged uneasy glances but nodded and followed her out, leaving the others in an awkward silence until she returned a minute or two later, alone. She drew in a shaky breath as she slowly sat down. "Airen Cracken was found dead in his office approximately fifteen minutes ago. He'd been shot in the head at point-blank range."

Jesina's intelligence training kicked in a moment before her humanity and she and Mara asked at the same time, "Who's in charge over there?"

Most of the others shot them looks of confusion or annoyance – except for Iella and Face, who waited anxiously for Leia's response. "Joss Layfee."

Iella groaned, Face shook his head, and Jesina buried her face in her hands. Leia's frown deepened. "What's the problem?"

"Layfee hasn't been in the field in a decade," Jesina answered. "He's been admin, which is the last thing we need right now. Besides, he's not even the Deputy ID. What happened to Korlis?"

"Korlis ended up in a back alley on Antoinn V with a knife through his heart and a blaster bolt to the back of his head," Mara said. She frowned at their expressions. "You didn't know?"

Iella shook her head. "Cracken told us he'd sent him to deal with a sensitive matter. He was supposed to be the only one who knew where."

"He was. Until he ended up dead." Mara shrugged. "That's the kind of thing we pick up on quick."

"Wonderful," Face muttered.

"It gets better," Mara interrupted him. "Layfee's in Jericho's pocket."

"How do you know that?" Leia asked. She was starting to get a headache. Scratch that. The headache she'd developed the second Wedge and Iella had walked into her office. She didn't quite know how to describe the rather unique experience she was having right now. Mara gave her a pointed look and the Chief of State sighed. "Forget I asked."

"Who's Jericho?" Gavin asked.

"Irik Jericho is the President of Antoinn V," Iella said softly. She didn't like where this was heading. Not one bit. "It's in the Corporate Sector. They're nominally aligned with the New Republic."

"Not anymore," Mara said. All eyes turned to her once again. "He's scheduled a speech in the capital tomorrow. If Karrde and I are reading it right – and I'm fairly certain we are – he's going to announce that he's severing all ties with the New Republic and throwing his support to Hekrig.

Dead silence reigned for a moment until Wes spoke. "Anyone get the sense that there's just been a minor coup in Intelligence?"

Jesina nodded slowly and when she spoke her voice had taken on a sense of urgency. "Leia, you have to do something. You need to pull Layfee out now, before you lose all control of Intel."

Any response from Leia was forestalled by Wedge and Pash's return. Pash stood stiffly, his eyes red and his face pale but at the same time utterly void of emotion. Everyone shifted uncomfortably, suddenly reminded that the man who'd died had been more than just a political figure and now, it seemed, the target of a conspiracy. He'd been a father, too, and his son stood before them now, barely maintaining a tenuous grasp on his composure. "Pash," Wes began, but the A-wing pilot waved him off.

"Thank you, Wes. But not now." He looked at Leia. "Do you know who's responsible?"

She shook her head. "Although we seem to be on the way to discovering that."

He took a deep breath and Wedge was glad to note that a little color had returned to his face. Not much, but some, and that was a good sign. Slowly, Pash sat down and leaned forward, clasping his hands and resting his forearms on his knees. "What were you talking about before we interrupted?"

Wedge's eyes widened. He'd always had nothing but respect for the pilot, but the younger man's fortitude in the face of his father's death was astounding. He looked at Leia over Pash's head and nodded. He wanted to know what was going on, and he deserved that much. After all, his father had died because of it.

Haltingly, Leia explained everything the two men had missed, up to Jesina's entreaty that she remove Layfee. To which she replied, "And replace him with who?"

"Someone. Anyone you trust. Iella. It doesn't really matter, as long as it's not Layfee."

"Oh, no," Iella protested. "I'm in no way equipped to do that job. You are more than I am."

Now everyone's eyes were on Jesina. "She has a point," Face said. "You were the Regional ID for the entire Outer Rim. That's a lot of ground and a lot of agents."

"And you're one of the most seasoned agents we have, aside from Winter, and there's no way we can ask anything of her right now. Most of the others have retired by now," Iella pointed out.

"Except that you're forgetting one little fact. I'm not an agent anymore. I left Intel."

"Why?" Leia asked suddenly.

Jesina looked at her, confused and a little wary. "Why what?"

"Why did you leave Intelligence?" Leia spoke calmly, in stark contrast to the reaction she sparked in Jesina.

She was on her feet now, having begun to feel trapped. "Because of all the games. I got sick and tired of watching people get set up and stabbed in the back and left out in the cold."

"And all of those games started from Cracken on down, didn't they?" Leia asked.

She knew where Leia was going with this. "Oh, no. You aren't doing this to me. I'm not being guilted or tricked into anything. No. That's how Cracken got me into Intel in the first place, ten Force-forsaken years ago. No."

"Just temporarily," Leia pleaded. "You said yourself, we need someone we can trust in there. And there aren't many people I trust in Intelligence. Once this is over, you can go back to the Rogues, or stay on if you want to."

"I…I have to think about it." Abruptly, she turned on her heel and left the room.


	31. Duty Bound

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 31: Duty-Bound

---------------

Jesina stood alone in Wedge and Iella's study. She leaned against the wall and brushed her dark hair back from her face as the conversation she'd just left played itself over and over in her mind. She was sick of Intelligence. She'd watched Corran Horn abandon his most sacred principles on Hoth because of a lie from Cracken. She'd watched Wedge nearly shot down because of a lie from Cracken. And that was just the most recent in a long list of disasters or near disasters all because of Intelligence. And so many of them had been times when her friends – whether she remembered they were her friends or not – had been in trouble and she'd been unable to do a thing.

Tycho. Adumar. Corran. Hoth. Tycho. Adumar. Corran. Hoth. The words played over and over in her mind, a mantra reminding her of her failures.

But part of her knew that Leia was right. None of that would have happened if not for Cracken cultivating the NRI's culture the way he had. Certainly, the man had done a lot for the Alliance and the New Republic. She hated to think of where they would be if not for his aid. And no one could suggest his loyalty lay anywhere other than with the New Republic. But his tactics had hurt so many good people, nearly destroyed so many lives – and even more careers. If she were to take Leia's offer, she could change that. Change the failures, change the culture, end the games. She sighed. That was why she'd joined Intelligence in the first place. That was what Cracken had baited her with.

She'd taken the bait then. Was she really going to do the same thing again?

---------------

Wes watched Jesina leave and waited a moment before standing. "I'm going to see if she's all right," he said softly.

He found her in the back room, leaning against the wall, eyes closed tightly. "Jes?" he said softly. He'd learned not to startle her. She might have left NRI, but she hadn't left her training behind.

Her eyes flew open and she tensed for a moment. Relaxing when she saw that it was Wes, she gave him a wan smile. "Hey."

"Hey."

They stood a moment in companionable silence. Wes moved closer, standing in front of her. Taking a few steps forward, she leaned her head on his shoulder. He raised his arms slowly, encircling her. She let herself relax further, taking advantage of the fact that someone else was around to be strong for her for a change, and slipped her arms around his waist.

After a few minutes she pulled back and, keeping her arms around him, looked up at him. "Thanks. I needed that."

He offered her a soft smile and slowly bent his head down, brushing his lips against hers. "I needed that," he said, the smile shifting to a cocky grin.

She snickered and shook her head, shoving him playfully. But she sobered almost as quickly and sighed, stepping back and leaning against the wall. "I don't know what to do."

He looked at her in surprise. "You're actually thinking about taking the job?"

She shrugged. "There's really no one else. With Corlis dead and Layfee a potential traitor – and Force only knows who else he's taken along with him – we don't have a lot of options. Besides, Leia's right. Everything that's wrong with Intelligence – if I take over, I can take steps to fix it."

"You've been through this before, remember? And it didn't work out the way you planned. That's why you left, remember?"

"I know. But it's different now."

"No, it isn't."

"Wes—"

He shook his head and put a hand over her mouth. "No. Listen to me. I lost you to Intelligence once, ten kriffing years ago! And I'm not going to let it take you away from me again. Leia is doing exactly what Cracken did to you back then. And we all know how that turned out."

She blinked. "What?"

He looked away. "You heard me."

"I…yes, but…" she trailed off. She didn't want to have this conversation now. She couldn't have this conversation now. "Wes, I—"

At that moment they heard a knock on the door. Stepping apart quickly as if they were teenagers caught in an illicit embrace, they turned to see Wedge standing in the doorway. Blushing furiously, she tried to mumble some sort of excuse, but failed miserably.

It didn't matter anyway. Wedge waved her off and shook his head. "Someone made a move on Tycho and Winter. She's been shot, but guards stunned the shooter before she could hit Tycho. Winter's in bacta already, and should be fine."

They followed Wedge out to the living room, equally stunned expressions on both their faces. "Leia, pull Layfee out. There's no way Corlis' death could be a coincidence. And General Cracken's had to be an inside job. I'll take the position." She turned to face Wedge. "Effective immediately, General, I'm temporarily resigning from Rogue Squadron."

Wes could hear her voice crack slightly, and the fact that she carefully avoided looking in his direction did not slip by him unnoticed. He felt momentarily guilty for acting the way he had. It was clear from the way she looked at Wedge that she felt duty-bound to take the job, and that was something he could sympathize with. And he knew Wedge could as well. And he felt like he'd just made doing her job that much harder on her.

Their CO stood and hugged her. "I'll be sorry to lose you, but there'll be a place waiting for you to come back."

She smiled at him. "I'll be back." Then she looked at the others, then at Leia. "We should go back to the palace."

Pash Cracken stood quickly. "I'm going with you."

"Pash, we're going to need you in the air," Wedge pointed out, and Wes nodded to himself.

Now wasn't the time for the A-wing pilot to go off half-cocked on a man who might have been involved in his father's death. They'd need Pash where he belonged – in the cockpit, leading his squadron – if anything happened. "Let the MPs handle it, Pash."

The other man shook his head stubbornly. "No. I'm going. Besides, it doesn't seem like a good idea for these two to head over to the Palace alone, especially considering why they're going over there, does it?"

Wes glanced at Wedge. "He has a point."

"Yes, he does," the Corellian agreed, and sighed. "Fine. But the rest of you…" he waved a hand around the room, "are heading straight to the hangar."

"Wedge," Wes began, his own stubbornness showing through.

Wedge stared at him, and Wes knew that his old friend could see right through him. Finally, he threw up his hands. "All right. But the rest of you," he tried again, and Face spoke up.

"We're technically Intelligence," the Wraith pointed out.

Wedge shot Jesina a pleading look. Wes knew exactly why. Without Jesina, and with…he swallowed hard as the thought entered his mind…with Hobbie and Duryll dead, and with Tycho still out of the game, they were four short – five if he didn't make it back in time if something happened. Which it probably would, given their luck. Plus, if he didn't get back, Cracken probably wouldn't either. And…. Wes shut his brain off there. It was starting to hurt.

Jesina sighed. "All of you, go with the Rogues. We're going to need all the help we can get in the air if Hekrig comes back, and I can almost promise you he's going to. Wedge, I'll leave it to you to figure out how to sort people out, and I'm sure you can throw your weight around enough to get them fighters. And I'll try to get these guys back to you as soon as possible." She stepped back and motioned for the others to walk in front of her. As they moved, her hand dropped surreptitiously to cover the handle of her blaster.

Wes, as he stood and waited for her to leave before him, did the same. Jesina could take care of herself – that much he was sure about. But he didn't feel like seeing a demonstration of her abilities today. There was a reason he'd wanted to come along.

---------------

Jesina and Leia stood side-by-side, with Pash and Wes flanking them – the Ace to Leia's left and the Rogue to Jesina's right. Facing the short, balding Intelligence agent, they made a formidable wall. "By my order," Leia began in her most presidential voice, "you are hereby removed from your position as Interim Director of New Republic Intelligence. You will be taken into the custody of New Republic Military Police pending the investigation of the murders of General Airen Cracken and Colonel Marck Corlis, as well as allegations of collusion and acceptance of bribes." She turned to the MPs who had come in with them. "Remove him from my sight," she finished bitterly.

"You can't do this," the man protested weakly.

"I can, and I have. Colonel Jesina Dreis will be taking your place. Lodge any complaints with the Council, although I assure you I am acting quite within my power as we are in a military crisis situation."

At that moment, his aide entered the room. Jesina's aide, now, as it stood. "Sir?" she asked nervously. Jesina truly felt for her. She couldn't have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three, and the scene she'd walked in on must have been…unsettling.

"Your boss has just been arrested," Leia told the girl. "This woman, Colonel Dreis, is taking over Intelligence for the time being."

"Um, yes, well…" she trailed off and shook her head in an effort to reacclimate herself. "I just got a comm message." She glanced at each of them in turn, as if unsure of who she should be addressing. "General and Agent Antilles' home was just attacked. Four gunmen with high-powered blaster rifles shot out the front wall of the apartment."


	32. Fear

**RowenaR:** Well, here's another cliffie for you...

**Ninjaturtle:** Glad you like it...how about "Shades of the Past" for the title?

**Banshee:** I don't think this one makes it much deeper, but there's a little action, and a little reminiscing...

**Nikki, Jet, Lady Sinistra:** You guys still around? Just wondering...

---------------

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 32: Fear

---------------

"Was anyone injured?" Jesina asked as Leia waved for the military police to take Layfee away. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Pash and Wes step forward to hear the aide's reply. Surreptitiously, she dropped a hand to her side and squeezed Wes' briefly.

The woman watched as her boss was led out of the room, looking a little stunned. Not that Jesina could blame her. She'd been Cracken's aide for the last five years – until he'd been shot, and Layfee's for the last five hours. Then she shook her head and was suddenly all business again. "At this point, the Admiral's office has been unable to reach General Antilles or his squadron." Then she paused. "I did tell him that you were here, which is why they haven't tried to contact you. And we're trying to reach Agent Wessiri, but haven't been able to yet."

"Keep trying," Jesina said, easily slipping into the role she'd agreed to take over only hours earlier. "Let me know the moment you learn anything. And get someone from public relations up here. We need to release a statement about General Cracken and Agent Layfee, and about the shooting. The news organizations are going to get a hold of the story soon, and the last thing we need is to look like we aren't in control of the situation. And it'll be better coming from us rather than the Chief of State's office." She glanced at Leia, who nodded her approval.

The woman nodded, looking somewhat pleased with Jesina's take-charge attitude, and left.

Once the four of them were alone in the office, the new Intelligence Director's calm façade slipped. "They were shot at – they couldn't all have been killed."

Wes shook his head. "Not likely. But something's up. Wedge is expecting Hekrig to come knocking at our front door. He wouldn't ignore a comm call. Not now."

"Neither would Face," Jesina murmured. She took a few steps back and to the left, to the wall comm unit, and keyed in Wedge's comm code. She waited for a moment, but finally gave up. "Nothing. It's like he's turned it off."

"Or they're being jammed," Pash muttered, speaking up for the first time.

"Could be," Wes said slowly. Then his eyes narrowed. "They were heading to the hangar."

Jesina tapped her foot thoughtfully. "But Iella would still have been at the house," she said, reaching toward the comm unit once again. But after a few minutes, it became clear that Iella wasn't going to answer either.

She walked to the open door and stopped. Her aide – that was a strange thought – was just getting up from her desk. "I want to talk to someone at the Antilles' place."

"Not really necessary, ma'am. I was just about to tell you. Agent Wessiri was the only person in the house at the time of the attack, and she's all right aside from a few cuts and bruises and a blaster bolt that grazed her upper arm." She paused. "The Admiral's office has still not been able to reach the others, and we haven't been able to contact Commander Loran."

"Keep trying," was all Jesina said before retreating back into the office. She then turned to face Wes and Pash. "You two head to the hangar. As soon as you know anything, get in touch with Admiral Ackbar and with Leia and me. We'll be here. You can use this number." She wrote down the extension for the office, having memorized it back when this section of the Palace first became Intelligence headquarters.

Then, predicting Leia's protest, she turned to face the Chief of State – her boss – and said, "You have to stay here. Cracken's dead, they made a move on Tycho and Winter, and tried to kill Iella. Not to mention that the others are all out of contact, so we have no idea what their status is. You office may not be safe, and I can be almost positive that your home isn't."

---------------

Wedge spun around, dropping into a crouch as he heard the whine of a blaster shot from nearby – too close by for his comfort. He could feel the sparks as the shot struck his x-wing, precisely where his head had been moments before. He spat out a course and reached for his comlink, at the same time looking around to see where his pilots were – and where the shot had come from.

He saw Inyri and Gavin on the ground behind a stack of crates near their fighters. He watched as they raised their heads slowly to look over the barrier, but duck back down as the hidden shooter fired in their direction.

Another glance around and he spotted Ooryl near them in a similar position, and remembered that Corran was already in his ship. He spoke into his comlink on an open frequency, one usually used for emergencies within the Palace and the base. "This is Rogue Squadron, Rogue Leader. We are under fire in the main hangar bay. Do you copy? Repeat. Rogue Squadron is under fire in the main hangar bay. Do you copy?" But he got no response. And it didn't take him long to figure out why.

He ducked as blaster bolts flew over his head – going toward the door rather than toward his pilots. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw Donos, mostly hidden by a partition near the wall, fire a few more shots. Gavin and Inyri joined in, aiming in the general direction of the door.

---------------

Myn Donos watched his CO raise his head slowly and held his fire. Wedge would be caught in the middle if he made a move, and that wasn't a good thing. At all. A quick glance at Darklighter told him that he and Forge had drawn the same conclusion. Gavin waved his blaster and then opened fire toward the doorway. Myn waited until Forge added her own fire to the mix, and then did the same. Between them, they lay down a haphazard field of blaster bolts, making it impossible for the shooter to get a clear shot off without getting hit himself.

He fired a few shots in rapid succession that were better aimed than Gavin and Inyri's – not that he had a choice. If he wasn't careful, he'd take out Wedge's head.

He watched his CO turn and waved for him to run. This would be so much easier with him out of the direction line of fire. He watched Wedge shift position, getting ready to moved. Then he saw him start to run, still bent over, trying to make himself as small a target as fire. Then he saw the flash of blaster fire. Then he watched Wedge fall.

---------------

Jesina sat down at the large desk after the PR person had gone. For the first time the reality of her new position, temporary as it was, had begun to sink in.

She'd been with Intelligence for the vast majority of her time with the Alliance and the Republic. She'd dealt with Cracken on a regular basis over the course of that time, and had come to know him well. She'd respected him, admired him, feared him – but never, ever trusted him. She'd known better than that from before she'd even started.

He'd known that, too. He'd known, and he hadn't cared in the least. He'd actually talked to her about it on one of the handful of occasions she'd lost her cool with him. It had been early on in her Intel career, but his words had remained with her because they seemed to apply to so much else in her life.

He'd said to her, _My ability to get things done doesn't come from people cooperating me because they trust me. It comes from people being afraid of what I can do if they don't cooperate_. At the time, she'd given him a scornful look and walked away. But she'd thought about it later. It was so true.

Palpatine, Iceheart, Vader, Zsinj, Tarkin – they'd all learned that. People like Booster Terrik and Talon Karrde had, too. They'd earned their reputations by dealing with those who were willing to deal and making those who weren't pay for their mistakes.

There were, of course, the handful of people who managed to have both sides of the credcoin – people like Wedge and Mara Jade – though they were the exceptions to the rule.

And, she had to admit, for all they'd all disliked Cracken, he could have done a lot worse than he had with the amount of power he'd achieved. His job hadn't been an easy one, full of impossible negotiations and decisions about acceptable losses and unacceptable risks. There were many decisions he'd handed down over the years that had infuriated her. But now, sitting in this chair and thinking back on everything, she wasn't sure he'd have done things any differently.

The aide – Jesina made a mental note to learn her name before the end of the day – appearing in the doorway dragged her out of her reverie. "Admiral Ackbar and General Bel Iblis would like to meet with you both immediately. Admiral Hekrig's fleet has just reverted from hyperspace."

---------------

Wes led Pash around to the hangar's rear entrance. They'd initially headed for the main connector, but changed plans when they heard the first blaster shots.

As they approached the door, Wes drew his blaster and heard his companion do the same. He peered inside and saw Gavin and Inyri not far from him, their attention focused on the main entrance. He watched as Inyri dropped one power pack and grabbed another one from the pocket of her flightsuit, and then continue shooting.

He motioned for Pash to go past him. The A-wing pilot nodded silently and slipped into the hangar, crouching as he ran behind the fighters.

Wes hung back as he went, wondering exactly how he was going to get them out of this. He remembered what Jesina had said about contacting them when they knew what was going on, but he wasn't about to leave while the rest of his squadron was being shot at.

He dropped down to all fours, crawling over to Inyri and Gavin. To their credit, neither seemed to be startled by his arrival. Gavin tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, muttering something that sounded like, "It's about time you got here," but kept firing.

Wes raised his blaster but never got a chance to fire. He could see Wedge start to run away from them and toward Donos. Then he saw more blaster fire from the direction of the doorway, and he watched helplessly as Wedge stumbled and fell.


	33. Tenacity

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 33: Tenacity

---------------

"Where do we stand?" Leia asked, walking into the conference room, Jesina a step behind her.

"Hekrig's SSD, five _Imperial_-class Star Destroyers, three Mark IIs, three _Victory_-class, two Corellian heavy cruisers. No news on fighter complements, because they haven't deployed yet," Bel Iblis replied.

"How did he amass that much firepower without us knowing about it?" Leia asked.

"Right now I'd be inclined to say that Joss Layfee kept the information out of our hands," Jesina muttered. "Cracken probably suspected something, sent Mik Korlis to Antoinn – I guarantee you that that's where he's been staging his operations out of – and Layfee found out and had Korlis killed."

Ackbar swiveled his eyes toward her. "You seem to know more than we do, my dear."

Leia cast a sideways glance at Jesina. "We've just spent the last couple of hours learning about all this ourselves." She frowned. "Has anyone been able to contact Wedge?"

"No, we have not," Ackbar replied.

"We have, however, located them, we believe," Bel Iblis interrupted. "There were several reports of shots fired in or around the east hangar bay. Two units of military police were dispatched, but they've been out of contact for some time."

"Jamming," Jesina muttered. "We sent Majors Janson and Cracken after the Rogues. They were ordered to communicate with my office upon learning anything about the condition of the rest of the squadron – not that I really expected them to."

"That hangar's useless to us, then, isn't it?" Jesina asked.

Ackbar nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. We can only launch out of the west and south bays – and, as you know, the east is our primary hangar. A number of squadrons cannot access their fighters."

"Including the Aces, and the Rogues who are presumably under fire right now."

"Yes."

"Someone needs to find out what's going on down there," Leia said. "Send someone down with strict orders to report back immediately. We can't do anything until we know what's going on. And order our ships to standby for battle."

---------------

Myn scrambled forward, grabbing Wedge's arm and dragging him back across the floor. "Are you hit?"

"Just a graze," Wedge replied, teeth clenched tightly. He ran a hand down the outside of his left thigh, and winced. "Damn that hurts."

"Yeah." Myn fired a couple more shots toward the door and then looked back at his CO. "What do we do?"

"We're being jammed, so we can't call for help, and there's too much open space between here and that door. We can try for the rear entrance."

"Except that you can't run."

"Don't worry about me."

Donos glanced over at him. "Yeah, right." He returned his attention the steady field of blaster fire coming from the door. "There's no way people haven't realized we're being shot at in here."

"Oh, I'm sure they realized it. It's just a question of what they can actually do about it."

"Uh huh." Myn gave him a pointed look. "There's one shooter, hiding behind a doorway."

"We know that. Everyone else doesn't. All they know is that they can hear blaster fire. They have no way of knowing where exactly it's coming from, how many shooters, etcetera. And if it's military police who respond, in cases like this, they have standing orders not to walk into a fight until they've thoroughly assessed the situation."

His words were punctuated by the blare of a siren overhead.

---------------

"Ma'am, we need to get you to safety."

"That's a scramble alarm," Leia muttered, annoyed with the guards surrounding her and trying to shuffle her down the hallway. "The Palace isn't being invaded."

"Ma'am, we can't take any chances."

"There's a squadron of pilots under fire as we speak. Shouldn't you be trying to help people who are in actual danger, as opposed to—" She didn't get to finish her sentence. One second she'd been about to walk into the turbolift lobby. The next she was in some side room, pinned to the ground by at least two guards, listening to blaster bolts being traded back and forth outside. She heard people shouting back and forth but couldn't understand any of the words.

---------------

Wes didn't know what made him turn around – maybe just years of sensing the enemy's movements before they moved – but he spun seconds before another shooter appeared in the doorway he'd come through, blaster aimed perfectly at Inyri's head. He swung back around, throwing his arm around Inyri, and dove to the side, dragging her out of the path of the blaster bolt.

"What the—" she exclaimed, but quieted when he rolled off of her, coming up on his knee, blaster aimed toward the door.

He fired quickly, not bothering to aim. Not that it made a difference. The shooter was already back through the door. "That's it," he muttered. "You want to shoot at me when I'm in my fighter, fine. But let me get into the damn thing first."

He dropped back down onto his stomach and inched across the floor. As he moved, he glanced around, assuring himself that he knew where Pash Cracken was. "Warn me if there's anything headed my way," he said to Inyri as he crawled by her.

"What are you doing?"

"Something stupid, probably," he replied. "Give me a shout if I'm in trouble."

"Don't be a hero, Wes."

"We're not going to get out of here unless someone plays hero," he replied. With that, he broke into a run, nearly colliding with the wall he ran toward, and flattened himself against it. He made a perfect target for the first gunmen, but the second would have to bring himself into Pash's line of fire to get a shot at him.

Then he looked around for the Wraiths. Who seemed to have a similar idea about dealing with the first shooter.

---------------

Jesina was heading back to her office, satisfied that Leia was in good hands, when the scramble alarm went off overhead and she heard the announcement for pilots to head to their fighters and standby to launch. The hangars weren't technically in the palace, but they were attached through tunnels, and probably half the pilots on duty at the moment were in the palace lounges or training rooms.

And a second after that, she rounded a corner just to duck back as a blaster bolt narrowly missed her face. Drawing her own weapon, she dropped to one knee and leaned forward as far as she dared. She saw a cloaked figure whirl around and break into a run. "Damn it," she muttered, jumping to her feet and trying to aim at the same time. Her first couple shots hit the wall ahead of her as the would-be assassin turned a corner.

As she approached, she slowed to a cautious walk. She wouldn't do anyone any good if she got herself killed for no reason.

Then she saw the glint of metal and dove forward, tucking her head in and rolling across the floor, coming up on her feet about a meter and a half away – and directly in front of the shooter. Firing on instinct, she didn't try to absorb the kickback from the blaster. Instead, she fed off its momentum, rocking backward on the balls of her feet just as she pulled the trigger. She landed flat on her back as a blaster bolt passed right over her.

She rolled onto her stomach, coming up facing the other way. Spinning around quickly as she got to her feet, she saw that her assailant hadn't been as lucky as she. She'd caught him in his left shoulder – his gun arm. He'd dropped his weapon and was running, right hand pressed to his shoulder.

This time, she switched her weapon to stun and took the time to aim. Feeling a slight sense of satisfaction as the blue bolt hit him square in the back, she approached him as he crumpled to the ground.

Holstering her blaster, she knelt beside him, and rolled him onto his back. Slowly, she pulled back his hood and shook her head. Resting her left arm on her knee, she sighed. "I always did admire your tenacity."


	34. Again

Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

---------------

Chapter 34: Again

---------------

Jesina commed for an MP to come and take Vayl Lonciez off her hands once and for all. She waited nearly twenty minutes, and was finally met by a very apologetic pair of officers. "Half the Palace is under lockdown; the Chief of State is actually hidden away in a closet somewhere. Although last I heard, they expect to regain control of the east hangar bay within the hour," one of them told her.

_Hidden away in a closet? Leia must be loving that._ "Keep him under constant surveillance. Actually, keep him unconscious at all times, if possible. He's intelligence-trained and very dangerous. For now, charge him with assault with a deadly weapon, although there'll be a long list of charges once I have the chance to speak with General Antilles."

"Yes, ma'am." The officers saluted before dragging him away.

She watched them go, shaking her head. The New Republic badly needed to reassess their security protocols. Deciding that her office held nothing for her – she headed to the hangar.

---------------

Pash had watched, unmoving, as Wes crept toward the door. He wasn't sure what the other man had planned, but Janson had more experience with this kind of thing than he did, and he figured he'd follow his lead.

Janson pointed toward the wall on the other side of the door, and motioned to him. Pash gave him a look that said clearly, _Are you insane?_ If he tried to get there, he'd be putting himself directly in the line of fire.

---------------

Wes frowned at Pash and looked around, eyes lighting on the backboard that the mechanics used to roll under low-to-the-ground vehicles. It was leaning, wheels out, against the wall about a meter away. He holstered his blaster, tiptoed forward and grabbed the backboard, and set it down as softly as he could.

Well aware of the eyes on him, he lay on his back on top of the board, tipping his head so that he was looking at Pash upside down, and braced his feet on the floor. Slowly, he rolled forward, a centimeter at a time. Pulling his blaster from his holster, he held it ready, and jerked his head toward the wall.

He watched Pash take a deep breath, and knew the risk the other man would be taking. _Come on, Pash._

A second later, he saw the pilot from Contruum nod and break into a run. A second after that, he pushed off with his feet, rolling across the way, opening fire right as he cleared the door.

And a second after _that_ he heard two simultaneous cries of pain, followed by a crash.

The cloaked gunman had stepped forward to fire at Pash – and, it seemed, had hit him. But in doing so, he'd opened himself up to Janson's unexpected attack. Aiming from the ground, and moving as quickly as he was, Wes made himself a difficult target – and the shooter didn't have the chance to move back out of the way.

Wes thought he saw two of his shots catch the man in the chest – possibly three, but he couldn't be sure. Either way, _that_ threat had been neutralized. He turned his attention to Pash.

---------------

Reaching the hangar level, Jesina knew she'd found what she was looking for. Six New Republic military police officers were gathered around the doorway leading to the connecting corridor that ran down into the hangar. "What's going on?" she asked, holstering her blaster and pulling out her identification badge – her badge for Rogue Squadron, since she hadn't yet gotten one for her new, temporary position. Not that she expected she'd even need it, given the way things seemed to be falling apart around them.

One of the men, the officer in charge, recognized her anyway. "Ma'am, someone was just sent to secure you."

"I can secure myself just fine. These are my friends – my squadron. What's going on? Where do we stand?"

"There's a shooter at the end of the passage way. We can't get in, because every time anyone comes close, he fires on us."

"Have you tried the rear entrance?" she asked.

He frowned at her. "Yes, of course. But there's a shooter at that door, as well. They aren't trying to take the hangar – just keep us from using it."

"You have an assault unit," Jesina pointed out. "Why aren't they down here?" she asked. They could easily make it through the corridor and take the gunman waiting on the other side

"We have several," he replied testily. "They ordered one in, but that crew was diverted to defend the Chief of State when she came under fire. Half of the Palace is inaccessible right now, which is why no other units have been able to get through."

"Why, exactly, is half the Palace inaccessible?" she asked.

"We can't really tell you that," he replied. "All we know is that a number of armed assailants made it into the Palace – a severe security breach to be sure, but at this point, we don't even know how it occurred. Several stairwells or corridors are blocked off at one end or another by one or more armed…guards, if you will."

"Wonderful," she muttered. "And what's going on off-planet?"

"Absolutely nothing, again," he replied darkly. "He's sitting there. We've emptied our other hangars, and they haven't made a move on us at all."

"Have the shields been opened?" she asked.

"At various intervals, to permit our fighters exit." He paused. "Not that they've been needed yet."

---------------

Pash grimaced. He understood the necessity of Janson's plan…but wished just the same that it hadn't resulted in his getting shot. He pressed a hand to his stomach and winced.

"You gonna be all right?" Wes knelt beside him, looking duly concerned.

"I'll live," he replied through gritted teeth, leaning back against the stack of boxes he'd knocked over when he'd fallen. The impact of the shot had knocked him off balance. "Now what?"

"Now I get you out of here and get someone to look at that."

"Don't worry about me…it's not that bad."

"Cracken, the whole point is to get people out of here. And you're first." He ducked as a blaster shot came flying in their direction, and turned around to look at Inyri and Gavin. "Cover us, will you?"

"Where are you going?" Inyri hissed.

"He's wounded. I took out that shooter, and I've got to get him out of here." He turned and the look on his face clearly dared Pash to say otherwise. In response, Pash leaned his head back against the nearest box and grimaced. Taking a deep breath, he tried to straighten and glanced down at the spreading bloodstain on his stomach.

He was starting to feel nauseous. "Janson, I think you're right…" He just managed to get the words out, and took a deep breath.

Or tried to. "Janson," he gasped out. Clearly, the adrenaline had worn off. He was hurt worse than he'd thought.

He heard a loud crack and felt hands on him as his vision wavered. Then he heard shouting and everything faded out.

---------------

Wes just barely heard Pash say his name. Turning back, he saw the other pilot's head loll to one side. Kneeling beside him, he called, "Cover us," over his shoulder to Inyri. Catching her reply, he slipped his arms under Pash's neck and knees and hoisted him up.

And dropped to his knees, cursing, a second later as he narrowly missed losing an ear to a well-aimed shot. He mumbled an apology to the now-unconscious pilot in his arms as he heard shouting coming from across the hangar. "Cover us," he yelled one last time, lifting his charge and quickly covering the short distance to the door.

He continued to carry the man cradled in his arms the entire way down the corridor. It would have been easier had he been able to put Pash over his shoulder, but he didn't dare try it because of the location of the wound.

Right as he reached the end, he nearly collided with Jesina. "What happened?" she gasped, eyes going wide as she took in the bloodstain on Pash's uniform.

"He helped me take out the shooter back there," he jerked his head toward the direction from which they'd come, "but got shot for his effort. I need to get him to the med center."

"It's blocked off," she replied tersely.

"What?"

"The entire south wing is cut off – all the entrances are being guarded by Hekrig's people who managed to get into the Palace somehow."

Wes looked down at the man in his arms. "He needs help. He won't make it without it."

"A bacta patch will have to be enough for now. There's an MP unit at the entrance to the main corridor. Take him there." She moved past him down toward the hangar, turning back after a second, though she continued to walk backward. "Anyone else hurt in there?"

"I think Wedge is, but it doesn't seem too bad."

---------------

Leia slid down the wall of the closet she'd been shoved into right after the shooting started – well, after they'd picked her up off the floor, at least.

How was this happening? Certainly, she'd understand one or two security breaches. But it was as if the entire Palace had been taken over. She smoothed her skirt and rested her head against the wall. "I'm going to be here forev—" she started to say, but stopped as the door slid open.

"Madame Chief of State," one of the MPs who'd guided her into the closet said, extending her hand toward Leia. "Our apologies, ma'am." The redheaded officer helped her to her feet.

"No apology necessary," Leia said, not bothering to brush off her clothes. "What's going on," Leia paused, looking at her rank insignia and name badge, "Lieutenant Hray?"

"The assailants within the Palace have retreated," the lieutenant reported. "As far as I know, two were caught, though the others escaped. And Major Janson, with Rogue Squadron, killed one – one of the two locking down the East Hangar Bay."

Leia gave a silent cheer for Wes. "Do we know why they retreated?" she asked, falling into step beside the other officers as they headed to…well, wherever they were heading. Given the lack of knowledge about the security of the Palace right now – even with the retreat of Hekrig's forces – it was better just to follow wherever they led.

"He's once again ordered his fleet to hyperspace," the officer who'd shoved her down when the shooting started answered.

Leia stopped and stared at him. "You're joking."

"No, ma'am. He jumped to hyperspace immediately after the jamming over the hangar lifted and his…insertion crew…initiated their retreat."

Leia massaged her temples with her fingertips. _What in the name of the Force is going on?_


	35. Gone Only to Return

**A NOTE: I am well aware that this is a poor conclusion to this story, and I apologize. I am currently rewriting it at the fan fiction forums at tf.n. That version is much better written and much more developed, and will have a far better conclusion. You are all invited to read it over there. It's actually a lot of fun. It's new title is "Shades of the Past," and the link to it on the Jedi Council forums is in my profile. I wanted to put it here but the freakin' link kept disappearing.****  
**

**That said, this is not the conclusion to this series. There is another story that I will start writing after "Shades" is completed. Hopefully, that'll only be a month, month and a half or so.**

**Thank you to everyone who has read this all the way through. I appreciate your feedback, your wading through the awful writing at the beginning, your tolerance of the unresolved plot holes, the disappearance of Kirney Slane, etcetera. I hope you'll all read the rewrite (we really do have a lot of fun over on tf.n), and I hope you'll all stick around for the next installment.**

**Now, on with the "conclusion"….**

---------------

Chapter 35: Gone Only to Return

---------------

Leia looked up as Wedge limped into her office. "Are you ready to tear your hair out yet?" he asked her with a grin.

"Just about." She looked around. They'd finally managed to straighten her office out – though the rest of the Palace wasn't in such good shape. "This is driving me crazy."

"I know the feeling. I have good news though."

"Oh? I don't suppose you're going to tell me you've figured out what Hekrig is doing with us?"

He shook his head ruefully. "No such luck. But it's almost as good. Winter's being released from the hospital."

"So soon?" Leia asked. It had only been…three days ago that they were attacked.

Wedge smiled broadly. "There's more."

She regarded him suspiciously. "What?"

"She's not really up to taking care of herself," he said slowly but started talking faster when Leia glowered. "Tycho's coming home with her."

"WHAT?" Leia exclaimed. "They're releasing him?"

He nodded. "He's been there for more than six months now, and Doctor Lur says he's made incredible progress over the last few weeks. She won't certify him to return to duty yet, but she says he's ready for outpatient therapy. AND she thinks that if he sees her regularly for the next month or two – every other day for a couple of hours – he'll be able to return to the squadron."

Leia was on her feet and by his side in a second. "Oh, Wedge, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly. "Winter must be thrilled."

"She is," he said, nodding. "She says she won't believe it until she wakes up next to him in the morning."

"I can imagine," Leia murmured. Then her smile disappeared. "Do _you_ think he's ready, Wedge?"

"I think so. I was worried when I talked to him when we first got back, but Doctor Lur said that the way he was acting was to be expected, and that she thinks that he needs to be out and among people. She says that's the next step for him – he needs regular interaction. She told Winter to expect panic attacks from time to time, but that she – or one of us – should be all he needs to get through it."

"But what happens if he's alone?"

"He's not supposed to be left alone for very long. Besides, she says he's at a point where he might be depressed, but he won't be suicidal." He shrugged. "It all makes sense, if you think about it."

Leia nodded and retreated back to her desk. It _did_ make sense…but living at home with his wife was a far cry from returning to a fighter squadron – and a position of command. Two months didn't seem like very long. "How do you feel about him returning to the squadron?"

That got to him. She could tell that he had his reservations, but he felt guilty in saying them. "I'm not sure," he finally admitted.

She motioned toward a chair. "Sit down. You look like you could do with talking to someone."

He nodded and sighed, but didn't sit. "I just…it's partly the job that pushed him to this point. I don't want to see him on the edge again."

"Wedge, it wasn't the job…it was his inability to cope with doing his job. He won't have that burden now, especially if he continues to talk to a therapist – if not Ishana Lur than someone else. And there's no way he'd be permitted to return to active duty without periodic visits with a psychiatrist. He'll be fine. Unless you're concerned that he can't do the job anymore."

That was it. She saw it in his face. "It's not a betrayal of him to have your debts, Wedge. He's been through a lot. A command position in a fighter squadron – especially in our current…situation – demands the ability to make difficult decisions quickly. There's no space for panic attacks or self-doubting. You know him very well, Wedge. If you think there's a chance – even in the face of what his doctor says – that he can't do the job, you should say something."

"I can't do that to him, Leia."

"It would be worse for him to be put in a position that he couldn't handle," she pointed out. "Think about it. And talk to him."

---------------

Tycho opened the door and smiled broadly at Wedge. "Come on in."

Wedge stepped inside and walked with him into the living room. "How's it feel to be at home?" he asked after a moment.

"Terrific. I can…I mean, the last couple of weeks I was in the hospital I had a lot more freedom to do what I wanted. But it's nothing compared to this. I can leave…I can go down to the store if I want to. I can…" he trailed off and his face flushed. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. It's just so…" he shook his head.

Wedge laughed out loud. "I can imagine. Different than after _Lusankya_ or after Corran's trial?"

Tycho nodded. "I'm not sure how, exactly…but it is. It feels better. It's not only being out of the hospital, it's that I really do _feel_ better. Ishana told me to expect to still have attacks, and I believe her that it might happen, but I do feel better."

He thought back to some of their conversations – specifically, the first time she'd brought up his potential return to the squadron. At the time he hadn't been sure about wanting to return. He still wasn't positive, but he was getting closer to deciding that it was what he wanted to do. "I talked to Winter about coming back to the squadron once I'm able."

Wedge shifted from foot to foot and Tycho frowned. "What is it?" When Wedge stayed silent, he asked again. "What's wrong?"

"Tycho, are you sure…I mean, really sure…that you'd be able to do it again? That you can do the job, no matter how difficult it gets?"

Tycho looked away. He'd been expecting this from someone, but not so soon. And not from Wedge. "You don't think I can do it?" he asked softly.

"It's not that. I just…I don't want you to feel like you have to if _you_ have any doubts. No one would blame you for retiring. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. I just don't want you to make a mistake that you don't have to make. Don't push yourself too hard."

"I'm not, Wedge," Tycho replied quietly.

---------------

Wedge stood outside Tycho and Winter's home, thinking about the conversation they'd just had. It wasn't at all how he'd intended for it to go, but as he thought about it more, he realized that what he'd said was actually what he'd meant…if that made any sense.

He walked to his speeder. He really _did_ have faith in Tycho. He didn't think the man would put himself in danger unnecessarily – at least not now anyway. And he knew he would never put the others in danger. He just worried about him feeling like he was expected to return to the way things were before.

Sliding into the seat he leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. There was so much going on that didn't make sense; he was starting to think it was rubbing off on his brain.

Putting the vehicle into gear, he headed home. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep next to Iella and forget about everything that was going on.

---------------

"Jericho's been assassinated."

Iella jerked her head up from the sink where she'd been washing her face. "What did you say?"

"Jericho was assassinated. Late last night. It would seem that someone didn't like him moving into Hekrig's camp. He and three of his advisors were found dead. Looks like an inside job – not that we can get any of our people in there."

She grabbed a towel and dabbed at her face. "How's that?"

"Antoinn looks like it's headed for a Civil War."

Iella let her hair down and shook it out. "I say we let Hekrig handle it. Maybe it'll give him something else to focus on other than making our lives miserable." She headed for the kitchen, Wedge following behind her.

He glanced over his datapad as he took the cup of caf she offered. "There's more."

"Good or bad?" she asked, sipping her own as she leaned against the counter.

"I'm not sure. What you just said…about Hekrig handling it? You aren't far off. The last Karrde's heard, according to Mara, Hekrig's completely withdrawn from New Republic space."

"He'll be back."

"I know. But right now he IS paying attention to Antoinn. He's sent at least one ImpStar Deuce over, but he hasn't made any moves against the planet. Right now, the New Republic is leaving the situation to sort itself out."

Iella sipped her caf. "Not much they can do." She paused. "Any word on when we'll have a new ID?"

"Soon…Leia and Jesina have been talking to candidates…Jesina's praying it's within the next week."

"Good. She's doing a fine job, but we need a permanent person to run this, especially since it looks like this is going to be an Intel gig from here on in."

He nodded. "I talked to Ackbar last night. They're not sending Rogue out again until we have a full roster."

"How many spots do you have to fill? Just three, right?"

He shook his head. "Two."

She tilted her head to one side. "Who's the new pilot?"

"Not so new…" he hesitated. "Tycho's coming back."

Iella's eyes widened. "So soon?"

"Another month, but he will be back. He wasn't sure when I talked to him a couple of days ago, but I guess Ackbar had him come in yesterday, told him that command wants to see him return, and has faith that he'll be able to. Apparently, it made up his mind."

Iella set her mug down and hugged him across the counter. "That's a good thing, Wedge. Tycho's learned a lot from this. He won't make the same mistakes again. If he thinks he can come back, trust him on that. And be happy for him."

"I am…I'm just worried. I still feel like I missed it before…I don't want to see it happen again."

"You won't."

---------------

Wedge stood at the front of the Rogues' briefing room. "I wanted to inform you that we have an addition to the squadron." He paused. "Actually, it's not an addition so much as a return." He glanced over at Jesina and Wes. "Tycho's returning. It'll be a few weeks, and it's pending final clearance from his doctor, but we're planning on his coming back."

"That said, there are no guarantees about anything…including his emotional stability. We would not – I repeat, WOULD NOT – allow him back into this squadron if there was any doubt about his ability to do his job. However, I realize that there is a chance that our opinions – and those of his doctor – may not be enough to assuage you of your own concerns. If any of you feel uncomfortable flying with him, we'll honor transfer requests, no questions asked."

Looking over the room, he could tell the people to whom that thought had occurred. Person, really – Ensa'dura, the man least familiar with Tycho, and with the judgment of the rest of the squadron. The rest all looked at each other in surprise, shaking their heads.

"Tycho himself asked me to tell you that," Wedge said softly. "He also asked me to tell you that if you have any concerns, you're free to approach him. You're also welcome to speak to myself, Jesina, Wes, or Tycho's doctor, Ishana Lur. Though she can't tell you anything specific about his case, she can explain why she believes him to be capable of returning to the squadron. We'll be on Coruscant for at least the next month, so you'll have plenty of time to speak to any of us before we have our next mission."

He stopped speaking when he saw Tycho enter through the back door of the briefing room, and nodded in his direction. At the slight movement from Wedge, all heads turned in Tycho's direction, and instantly everyone was out of their seats, swarming around him.

Wedge stayed at the front, joined a moment later by Wes and Jesina. "I don't think you have a whole lot to worry about," Wes said softly.

Wedge shook his head. The squadron certainly hadn't recovered from the last few months. Corran's "death," Tycho's ordeal, losing Duryll and Hobbie…each new problem had made things more difficult. But having Tycho return looked like it would do as much for the squad's morale as it would for Tycho's own confidence.

"No, I think it's gonna be okay." _Until Hekrig comes back anyway_, he thought.


End file.
